Season 2: Westadder
by Chris the Metis
Summary: Curse of the adder is in the reign of mad queen Emily with Caroline the crazy nurse, Lord Henry Stanier, Lord Oliver Westadder, Lord Thomas Blueadder and Percy Small the butler.
1. Bells

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

**Oliver the Second**

Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends crossover with Blackadder

**Main starring**

Oliver the Great Western Engine as Lord Oliver Westadder  
Percy the Small Engine as Percy the Butler  
Henry the Green Engine as Lord Henry  
Emily the Single Sterling Engine as Queen Emily  
Thomas the Tank Engine as Lord Thomas Blueadder  
Caroline the Car as Nursie

**Episode One**  
**Bells**

**Guest Starring**

Molly the Yellow Engine as Bob aka Molly  
Bear the Diesel as Father of Molly  
Gordon the Big Engine as Gordon Greasley  
Duck the Great Western Engine as Doctor Duck  
Henrietta the Coach as Wisewoman  
Tim the Little Engine as Young Tim

In the house of Molly and her father.

Molly: Father, I must speak. I can be silent no longer. All day long you muttered to yourself, gibbered, dribbled, moaned and bat your head against the wall, yelling "I want to die". Now you may say I'm leaping to conclusions but you're not *completely* happy, are you? It's mother, isn't it?

Father: No, it is not.

Molly: You're brooding over her death, aren't you?

Father: Molly, for the final time, your mother is not dead. She's run off with your uncle Monty.

Molly: Dear father, I know you only say such things to comfort me.

Father: Your mother is alive and well and living in Droitwich. It is not her I brood over. I'm sad because, my darling, our poverty has now reached such extremes that I can no longer afford to keep us. I must look to my own dear tiny darling to sustain me in my frail dotage.

Molly: But father, surely...

Father: Yes Molly, I want you to become a prostitute.

Molly: Father!

Father: Do you defy me?

Molly: But indeed, I do. For it is better to die poor than to live in shame and ignominy.

Father: No, it isn't.

Molly: I'm young and strong and clever. My nose is pretty. I shall find another way to earn us a living.

Father: Oh, please... go on the game. It is a steady job and you'd be working from home.

Molly: Goodbye father. I shall go to Suddery, disguise my self as a boy and seek my fortune!

Father: But why go all the way to Suddery when you can make a fortune lying on your back?

In the house of Oliver Westernadder.

[Percy holds a dartboard over his head, while Oliver practises the bow]

Percy: Ah, very good shot, my lord.

Oliver: Thank you, Percy.

[Thomas walks in]

Thomas: Sorry I'm late.

Oliver: No, don't bother apologizing. I'm sorry you're alive.

Thomas: Oh good, I see the target is ready. [Picks up the bow] I'd like to see the Dutch who could make his way past me.

Oliver: Well, go to Holland. There're millions of them.

Thomas: I'll advise them to stay there then. Keep their hands off our women.

Oliver: Oh God, who is she this time?

Thomas: I don't know what you mean. Aah, ouch, aah.

[Oliver succeeds in pilfering a letter from Thomas]

Oliver: Aah, and who is Jane?

Thomas: I'm sworn to secrecy. Torture me, kill me, you shall never know. Ooh, ouch... Lady. We're very much in love, my lord.

Oliver: This is *the* Lady Goldie?

Thomas: Yes.

Oliver: Lady - burry-me-in-a-wide-shaped-coffin - Goldie.

Thomas: I.., I think maybe there are two Lady Goldie.

Oliver: No... Tall, blond, elegant?

Thomas: Right, that's right.

Oliver: Goes like a privy door when the plague is in town? Come on, get on with your shot. You'll get over her.

... [Thomas aims]

Oliver: I did.

... [Thomas aims again]

Oliver: So did Percy actually. [Thomas's shot ends up way too low]

Thomas: Damned!

Oliver: You see, she's got this thing about beards apparently.

Thomas: Well, in that case I'm going to shave!

[Thomas leaves]

Oliver: Bad luck, Perky.

Percy: Not to worry my lord, the arrow didn't in fact enter my body.

Oliver: Oh good.

Oliver: No, by a thousand to one chance my willy got in the way.

Oliver: Extraordinary.

Percy: And I only just put it there. But now, I will leave it there forever.

Oliver: That so Percy? It can be your lucky willy.

Percy: Yes, my lord. Years from now I'll show it to my grandchildren.

Oliver: No Percy, I think that grandchildren may now be out of the question. Poor old Pee Brain, eh? Ha! Never catch me falling in love, that's for damned sure as mustard.

[Knock on the door]

Oliver: Come in.

[Molly enters, dressed in boys clothes]

Bob: Good day to you, Lord Westadder!

Oliver: Ah, good day to you... boy?!. What is it brings you here?

Bob: I'm an honest hard working lad, but poor and I must support my father who is stark raving mad. Therefore I come to Suddery to seek a servants wage.

Oliver: Yes, indeed. Unfortunately I already have a servant.

Bob: The word is that your servant is the worst servant in Suddery.

Oliver: Hmm, that's true. Percy you're fired. Be out of the house in ten minutes. Well young man you've got your self a job. What do they call you?

Bob: Molly.

Oliver: Isn't that a bit of a girls name?

Bob: Oh..it's..euh... short for... Bob!

Oliver: Bob?!

Bob: Yes.

Oliver: Well, Bob, welcome on board. Sorry Percy, any reason why you are still here?

Percy: Euh .. I've got nowhere to go, my lord.

Oliver: O surely you will be allowed to starve to death in one of the royal parks.

Percy: I've been in your service since I was two and a halve, my lord.

Oliver: Well that is the why I am so utterly sick of the sight of you.

Percy: Couldn't I just stay here and do the same job but for no wages?

Oliver: Well, you know where you will have to live.

Percy: In the gutter.

Percy: Yes.

Oliver: And you'll have to work a bit harder too.

Percy: Of course, my lord.

Oliver: All right. Go and get Bob's stuff in and chuck your filthy muck out into the street.

Percy: God bless you, sweet master.

[Percy leaves, Thomas enters again, without beard]

Oliver: Oh Bob, this is Thomas, a dimwit I don't seem to be able to shake off.

Thomas: Ah, hello there Bob, you young roister-doister, you. Ah, you look a likely sort of lad for tricks and sports and all sorts of jolly, rosy cheap capering, eh. Of course you do, and more besides, I warrant thee, young scamp.

Bob: Thank you so much for letting me stay Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Oh not at all Bob. I'm looking forward to having you... Euh, having another man about the house instead of that animal Percy. Excuse me, I must go into the lavatory.

Bob: [to the camera] How little he knows and how much I would have him know.

Thomas: I say Bob, I think this calls for a celebration. How about a game of cup and ball and a slab of tea at Mrs. Miggins pie shop?

Bob: Get lost, creep!

Thomas: Euh, euh, I like you young Bob. You've got balls.

In the court of Queen Emily.

Queen: Nice try Heny, but it is no use. I'm still bored!

Henry: I'm very sorry madam. Your royal father used to be very amused by my impersonation of Neville.

Queen: You don't surprise me. He used to laugh at these people with the funny faces and the bells.

Henry: Ah, jesters ma'm.

Queen: No, lepers. Where is Oliver these days?

Henry: Ah well, the whisper on the underground grapevine, ma'm, is that Lord Westadder is spending all his time with a young boy in his service.

Queen: Oh. Do you think he would spend more time with me if I was a boy?

Henry: Surely not madam.

Nursie: You almost were a boy, my little cherrypit.

Queen: What?

Nursie: Yeah. Out you popped, out of your mummies pumpkin and everybody shouting : "It's a boy, it's a boy!". And somebody said "but it hasn't got a winkle!". And then I said "A boy without a winkle? God be praised, it is a miracle. A boy without a winkle!" And then Sir Zorran Stack pointed out that a boy without a winkle is a girl. Anyway, I was really disappointed.

Henry: Oh yes, well you see, he was a very preptive man, Sir Zorran Stack.

Queen: Oh, what *has* happened about Oliver? There is something very odd about someone who spends all his time with a servant.

[Romantic interlude with Oliver and Bob walking in the countryside to the tunes of "Greensleeves", "The Rain it Raineth Every Day", "Hey Nonny, I Love You", "My Love is a Prick (On a Tudor Rose)", "Hot Sex Madrigal in the Middle of my Tights" and "Many, many more..."]

Oliver: Well Bob. We're a couple of fine lads together, aren't we? Let's get retted and talk about girls eh? Yes we could sink to really dirty songs and... oh God, I find you curiously pleasant company, young Bob.

Bob: I'm honoured and for my part want nothing more than to be with you... old man.

Oliver: Well absolutely. I mean there is nothing more healthy and normal than having a good chum.

Bob: What think you my lord of love?

Oliver: You mean rumpy pumpy?

Bob: What would you say my lord if I were to say "I love you".

Oliver: Eum, well of course it depends entirely on whom you said it to. If you said it to a horse I would presume you were sick, if you said it to Percy I would presume you were blind and if you said it to me, well...

Bob: Yes, my lord?

Oliver: Well, well I'd naturally assume we were having a big lads joke about back-tickle as the way we healthy fellows often do and I'd probably grab you for a friendly wrestle and then we'd probably slap each others sides like jolly good chums and laugh at what it would be like if we really did fancy each other.

Bob: In that case my lord... I love you!

[Bob and Oliver engage in friendly wrestling, just when the mood changes, Percy enters the room]

Percy: Don't worry Bob. He used to try and kill me too.

Oliver: Why didn't you go Percy? Mighty glad to see you? What do you want?

Percy: Bah, I was wondering if I might sleep on the roof sir? Earlier the towns bailiff says that if I lie in the gutter I will be flushed into the Machan with all the other turds.

Oliver: Yes, certainly Percy. Help your self. I was just off to bed anyway. Euh.. good night Percy. Good night Bob.

Bob: Good night my lord.

Oliver: Yes. Oh God...

At the doctors.

Doctor Duck: Now then cousin, what seems to be the trouble?

Oliver: Well, it is my man servant.

Doctor Duck: I see. Well don't be embarrassed if you got the pocks. Just pop your man servant on the table and we'll take a look at him.

Oliver: No, I mean, it is my real man servant.

Doctor Duck: Ah, ah. And what is wrong with him?

Oliver: There is nothing wrong with him. That is the problem. He's perfect and last night I almost kissed him.

Doctor Duck: I see. So you started fancying boys then, have you?

Oliver: Not boys. A boy.

Doctor Duck: Yes, well let's not split hairs. It is all rather disgusting and naturally you're worried.

Oliver: Of course I'm worried.

Doctor Duck: Well, of course you are. It isn't every day a man wakes up to discover he's a screaming bender with no more right to live on Gods clean earth than a weasel. Ashamed of your self?

Oliver: Not really, no.

Doctor Duck: Bloody Hit, cousin! I would be. But still why should I complain? Just leaves more rampant totty for us real men, eh?

Oliver: Look, am I paying for this personal abuse or is it extra?

Doctor Duck: No, it's all part of the service. I think you're in luck though. An extraordinary new cure has just been developed for exactly this kind of sordid problem.

Oliver: It wouldn't have anything to do with leeches, would it, brother?

Doctor Duck: I had no idea you were a medical man.

Oliver: Never had anything you doctors didn't try to cure with leeches. A leech on my ear for ear ache, a leech on my bottom for constipation.

Doctor Duck: They're marvellous, aren't they?

Oliver: Well, the bottom one wasn't. I just sat there and squashed it.

Doctor Duck: You know the leech comes to us on the highest authority?

Oliver: Yes. I know that. Dr. Zebedee of Constantinople, isn't it?

Doctor Duck: That's right, brother, the great Zebedee.

Oliver: Owner of the largest leech farm of Europe.

Doctor Duck: Yes. Well, I cannot spend all day gossiping, brother. I'm a busy man. As far as this case is concerned I have now had time to think it over and I can strongly recommend a course of leeches. [in chorus]

Oliver: Yes. I 'll pop a couple down my codpiece before I go to bed.

Doctor Duck: No, no, no, no. Don't be ridiculous. This isn't the dark ages. Just pop four in your mouth in the morning and let them dissolve slowly. In a couple of weeks you 'll be beating your servant with a stick, just like the rest of us.

Oliver: You're a sale? quack, aren't you?

Doctor Duck: I'd rather be a quack than a ducky. Good day.

At the house of lord Westadder.

Percy: Anything to follow my lord? There is this lovely fat spider I found in the bath. I was saving it for myself but if you fancy it...

Oliver: Shut up Percy. I don't eat invertebrates for fun you know. This is doctors orders.

Percy: Oh, I don't hold with this new fangle doctoring. Any problems, I go to the Wise woman!

Oliver: Yes Percy. I am long past on trusting my self to some deranged druid who gives her professional address as 1, Kaiser Mansions, Harwick.

In Harwick.

Oliver: Tell me Young Tim, is this Harwick?

Young Tim: That it be, that it be.

Oliver: "Yes it is". Not "that it be". You don't have to talk in that stupid voice to me. I'm not a tourist. I seek information about a Wisewoman.

Young Tim: Ah, the Wisewoman.. the Wisewoman.

Oliver: Yes, the Wisewoman.

Young Tim: Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is ... a woman, and second, she is ...

Oliver: .. wise?

Young Tim: You do know her then?

Oliver: No, just a wild stab in the dark which is incidentally what you'll be getting if you don't start being a bit more helpful. Do you know where she lives?

Young Tim: Of course.

Oliver: Where?

Young Tim: Here. Do you have an appointment?

Oliver: No.

Young Tim: Well, you can go in anyway.

Oliver: Thank you Young Tim. Here is a purse of moneys... which I'm not going to give to you.

Wisewoman: Hail Oliver, lord of Western Great.

Oliver: Hello.

Wisewoman: Step no nearer, for already I see thy bloody purpose. Thou plot is, Westadder: thou wouldst be king and drown Loey Machan in a butt of wine. Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Oliver: No, no, no, no. it is far worse than that. I'm in love with my man servant.

Wisewoman: Oh well, I'd sleep with him if I were you.

Oliver: What?

Wisewoman: When I fancy people, I sleep with them. Oh, I have to drug them first of course! Being so old and watty.

Oliver: But what about my position, my social life?

Wisewoman: Very well then. Three other paths are open to you. Three cunning plans to cure thy ailment.

Oliver: Oh good.

Wisewoman: The first is simple. Kill Bob!

Oliver: Never.

Wisewoman: Then try the second. Kill your self!

Oliver: Neu. And the third?

Wisewoman: The third is to ensure that no one else ever knows.

Oliver: Ha, that sounds more like it. How?

Wisewoman: Kill everybody in the whole world. Ah, ha, ha ...

At the house of Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Now look here Bob. I've got something very important to say to you and I want you to listen very carefully.

Bob: Yes.

Oliver: Look Bob. I've decided that you are to leave my service.

Bob: Oh no, my lord! My father will starve and I'll have to become a.. male prostitute. And besides, I thought we were friends.

Oliver: Oh we are friends Bob. Of course, of course.. In fact that's the reason I want you to leave my service and become my live-in chum.

Bob: Oh my lord!

Oliver: Now. I want to make definitely clear that I am in no way interested in the contents of your tights.

Bob: You might be, my lord, if you knew what I kept in them.

Oliver: Euh, ah.. I've learned of my self, well.. that I know what a gentleman keeps in his tights. Thank you very much.

Bob: But my lord, I have a great secret.

Oliver: What?

Bob: Prepare to be amazed. [Bob starts unbuttoning her blouse]

Oliver: Oh no. You haven't got one of these birthmarks shaped like a banana, have you?

Bob: No.

Oliver: Or, or, or a tattoo saying "Get it here"?

Bob: No.

Oliver: Oh God. You've got one of those belly buttons that sticks outward, haven't you?

Bob: No my lord.

Oliver: Now what can it possibly be?

[Mysterious music on a flute]

Oliver: Aah... good Lord!

[Two minutes later, Bob and Oliver chatting at the table]

Oliver: What was all that Bob's stuff about then?

Bob: Because you would have just used me and cast me aside like you have so many women before.

Oliver: Would I?

Bob: Yes. But now you have a chance to grow to love me for what I really am.

Oliver: Yes, that's true and now I want to marry you, Bob.

Bob: Molly!

Oliver: Then come, kiss me Molly!

In the Court of Queen Emily.

Henry: I bring grave intelligence of your former favourite Lord Westadder.

Queen: Oh good.

Henry: It appears he wishes to marry a girl called Bob.

Queen: It is a very odd name for a girl, isn't it? Girls are normally called Emily or Mary.

Nursie: And Donald...

Queen: Mouth is open Nursie, should be shut.

Nursie: Thing is true, sweet one. I had three sisters and they were called Donald, Douglas and Duncan.

Queen: Then why is your name Caroline?

Nursie: That ain't my real name.

Queen: Isn't it?

Nursie: No.

Queen: No, what is your real name then?

Nursie: Neil.

Queen: Suites you, actually.

[Oliver enters the room]

Oliver: Your Majesty.

Queen: Oh, hello stranger.

Oliver: I seek your permission to wed.

Queen: So I hear. Henie, what do you think of all this?

Henry: Oh, but I must confess madam, that I'm astonished that Westadder could possibly have eyes for any other woman than yourself.

Queen: Good point. Though slightly grovel.

Oliver: Very well. When I fell in love I didn't know she was a woman. I thought she was a boy.

Henry: But of course that makes it perfectly acceptable, doesn't it?

Queen: Oh all right, go on and marry her.

Oliver: Thank you, ma'm.

Queen: Just tell me one thing. Is her nose as pretty as mine?

Oliver: Oh, no, no.. ma'm.

Queen: Oh good, because otherwise I would have cut it off. And then you would have to marry someone without a nose and that wouldn't be very nice, would it?

Oliver: No ma'm.

Queen: Imagine the mess when she's got a cold! Yuck!

Oliver: Well, quite ma'm.

Queen: All right, off you go then.

[Oliver leaves]

Queen: Everyone seems to get married except me.

Nursie: And me, Ma'm.

Queen: Oh shut up, Neil.

At Westadders residence.

Molly: You'll make a lovely bridesmaid Percy. Pity me that I have no actual girl chums because we were so poor in our house we couldn't afford friends.

Oliver: It is strangely in keeping with the manner of our courtship that your maid of honour should be a man.

Percy: Thank you very much my lord.

Oliver: Well, I use the word man in an as broad as possible sense because we all know God made man in his own image. It would be a sad look out for Christians around the globe if God looked any like you, Percy.

Molly: Ignore old Mister Grumpy. There you are, Perky. Hmm, you look sweet as a little pie.

Oliver: Molly, he looks like what he is: a dung ball in a dress.

[Thomas enters]

Thomas: Oh Oliver... [sees the bridesmaid] Hello there... Oliver, you didn't tell me we were expecting guests. And such a pretty one too.

Oliver: Oh God...

Thomas: Now you're a little cuty to be hiding your self away all these years. Tell me gorgeous, what is your name?

Oliver: He's called Percy.

Thomas: Percy.. that's a pretty name. Oliver used to have a servant called Percy. But anyway, away with such small-talk. Lady.. a kiss!

Bob: What?

Thomas: And so modest too. Come on you little tease. You know you want to. Give us a kiss.

Bob: All right, if you say so. [kisses Thomas heavily]

Thomas: Ohghw...he.. what an original perfume.

Oliver: That is our Percy. He's wearing a dress.

Thomas: Ourgh..

Oliver: Anyway, what do you want?

Thomas: Ourgh... well euh.. [deep voice] Oliver, there has been some discussion around the Court on the subject of who's going to be your best man and I thought it might be the moment to bring the subject to a conclusion.

Oliver: Ah yes, Thomas. I would like you...

Thomas: Oh, I'm so proud!

Oliver: Please let me finish. I would like you to take this letter to Brendam where is recently docked the galleon of my old school friend and adventurer Lord Gordon. He shall be my best man.

Thomas: Lord Gordon. The best sword, the best shot, the best sailor and the best kisser in the kingdom.

Oliver: Even he. To Brendam at once!

Thomas: Yes. Actually I was going to suggest Lord Gordon as the best man myself.

Oliver: Were you?

[Thomas leaves, crying his eyes out]

In front of the church.

[Wedding bells]

Molly: Oliver I cannot believe it is really happening.

Oliver: It is, my sweet.

Molly: Before we go in I want you to meet my father.

Oliver: Oh fine!

Oliver: [to the old man standing near them] Excuse me, could you move along please. Look, I'm waiting for my father in law. Last thing I want is some scruffy old beggar blocking the church door, smelling of cabbage.

Father: I am your father in law.

Oliver: Oh no... All right, how much you want to clear off?

Molly: Oliver, how could you? He's my father, my only living relative.

Father: Ten pounds should do the trick.

Molly: Father!

Oliver: All right, there we go.

Molly: Oliver, you mustn't!

Oliver: No, don't worry, I'll get Percy to beat him up after the ceremony. We'll get the money back. Come on, we're late.

In the court of Queen Emily.

Queen: Ah Oliver. Could we get on do you think? I want to get to the reception so I can get squiffy and seduce someone.

Oliver: Yes.. oh.. unfortunately ma'm, my best man still has not arrived.

Queen: Well, get another one.

Oliver: Ma'm, there is no one else I can really think of.

Thomas: Euh.

Oliver: Sorry Thomas?

Thomas: Nothing my lord, just clearing my throat.

Oliver: Don't. I don't want you coughing all the way through the ceremony.

Queen: Oh, come on Oliver. You must be able to think of another best man.

Oliver: Well, I suppose I could ask Thomas. Thomas!

Thomas: My lord!

Oliver: Can you think of another best man?

Thomas: Well my lord. One name does spring to mind.

Oliver: Yes. But I can't ask Percy. He's a bridesmaid and besides, I need a friend, an equal, an old and trusty companion.

Thomas: I think there is one person in the room who fits the description.

Oliver: Of course... Nursie! How do you fancy putting on a pair of hose and being my best man?

Queen: Oliver, don't be so naughty. You know perfectly well whom Thomas is referring to.

Oliver: All right, I'm sorry. Henry! [squeak] All right! All right! As ashamed as I am and contradiction in terminus though it is, Thomas, you can be the best man.

Thomas: Oh, my lord! Noble cause, oh what an honour. I brought along a ring, just...

Oliver: I really did think old Gordon would have turned up.

[Lord Gordon enters in spectacular fashion]

Gordon: It's me, Gordon! Gordon by name, speed by nature. Hurrah!

Oliver: Where have you been?

Gordon: Where haven't I been! ..Waugh!.. But I'm here now.

Gordon: Who is that?

Oliver: I don't know, but he is in your place.

Gordon: Not for long. Hold that.

[Hands his sword to Percy, then throws Thomas through the door]

Gordon: Thanks bridesmaid, like the beard. Gives me something to hang on to.

Gordon: So me old mate Ollie is getting hitched, hey? What's the matter? Can't stand the pace of the mmmm [grabs Oliver's tights]. Hey queeny. You look sexy. Listen, wear your hair long, I prefer it that way.

Queen: [to the camera] I've got such a crush on him.

Gordon: Hey Heny! Still worshipping God? Last thing I heard He started worshipping ME... Ah Nursie, I like it firm and fruity. Am I pleased to see you or did I just put a canoe in my pocket? Down boy, down. And now... where is this amazing bird? The one who stopped my old pall Ollie doing exactly whatever he wants, ten times a night.

Oliver: Ah yes Gordon, let me introduce my... my fiancee Molly.

Gordon: Hi, baby! [Gordon kisses the bride]

Gordon: She's got a tongue like an electric eel and she likes the taste of a man's tonsils. You don't want to marry this jerk baby? Meet me on my horse in eight seconds.

Molly: But I can't run in this frock. You see, I found I actually preferred wearing boys clothes.

Gordon: Weird. I always feel more comfy in a dress. I got a plan and it's as hot as my pants.

Oliver: What a man Gordon is, eh? Things will certainly liven around here, now he's back. Gordon. Gordon?

[Gordon (in dress) and Molly (in boys clothes) on a horse, about to depart]

Gordon: So long, suckers! Next time you get bored with your lives just give me a call and I'll come round and kill you.

Molly: Bye Oliver and thanks for everything. Hurrah!

[Gordon leaves in the same style as he arrived]

Henry: It is customary on these occasions for the groom to marry the bridesmaid. I presume you intend to honour this.

Percy: I do.

[Song]  
So Gordon tweaked the Westadders beard,  
from now he always shall be single.  
To fall in love with boys is weird,  
especially boys without a tingle.  
Westadder, Westadder. His taste is rather odd.  
Westadder, Westadder a randy little sod.  
Lord Gordon, Lord Gordon, I wish you were the star.  
Lord Gordon, Lord Gordon, you're sexier by far.  
[The end]


	2. Heads

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Sorry for any of those felt insulted because it is a parody that dose not make no sense at all!

**Episode Two**  
**Head**

"Oliver, newly appointed Minister in charge of Religious Genocide and Lord High Executioner finds himself Lady Kelly in a wee bit of trouble when he completely ruins Lord Kelly's weekend by cutting off his head."

**Guest Starring**  
Isabella the Lorry as Lady Kelly  
Devious Diesel as Mr. Diesel  
Rusty the Diesel as Mrs. Diesel

SCENE 1 (Home of Oliver Westadder)

Oliver: Right Percy, let's try again shall we? This is called adding. If I have two beans, and then I add two more beans, what do I have?

Percy: Some beans.

Oliver: Yes...and no. Let's try again shall we? I have two beans, then I add two more beans. What does that make?

Percy: A very small casserole.

Oliver: Percy, the ape creatures of the Indus have mastered this. Now try again. One, two, three, four. So how many are there?

Percy: Three

Oliver: What?

Percy: And that one.

Oliver: Three and that one. So if I add that one to the three what will I have?

Percy: Oh! Some beans.

Oliver: Yes. To you Percy, the renaissance was just something that happened to other people wasn't it?

Enter Thomas wearing an enormous rough.

Thomas: Oliver, Oliver, come quickly the queen wants to see you.

Oliver: What-

Thomas: I said "Oliver, Oliver, come quickly the queen wants to see-"

Oliver: Please let me finish. What, are you wearing round your neck?

Thomas: Ah! It's my new rough!

Oliver: You look like a bird who's swallowed a plate!

Thomas: It's the latest fashion actually and as a matter of fact it makes me look rather sexy!

Oliver: To another plate swallowing bird perhaps. If it was blind and hadn't had it in months.

Thomas: I think you may be wrong.

Oliver: You're a sad laughable figure aren't you Thomas? What do you think of Thomas's rough Percy?

Percy: Four.

Oliver: What?

Percy: Some beans and some beans is four beans.

Oliver: No, no. We've moved on from advanced mathematics, we're onto elementary dressmaking. What do you think of Thomas's rough?

Percy: I think he looks like a bird who's swallowed a plate my Lord.

Oliver: No that's what I think, that's what I think! What do you think? Try to have a thought of your own, Percy, thinking is so important. What do you think?

Percy: I think thinking is so important my Lord.

Oliver: I give up! I'm off to see the queen.

Thomas: Oh shall I come too my Lord?

Oliver: No, best not, people might think we're friends. You stay here with Percy. Bird neck and bird brain should get on like a house on fire!

SCENE 2 (The Royal Palace)

Henry: Grey, I suspect Majesty.

Queen: I think you'll find it was orange Lord Henry.

Henry: Grey is more usual mam.

Queen: Who's queen ?

Henry: As you say Majesty, there were these magnificent orange elephants which were coming...

Oliver: My Lady (Queeny screams), you wish to see me.

Queen: Yes, Lord Henry has bad news.

Oliver: Lord Henry is bad news.

Queen: (Laughs) No, be serious. Henry!

Henry: Unhappily Westadder, the Lord High Executioner Smudger is dead.

Oliver: Oh woe! Murdered of course.

Henry: No, oddly enough no. They usually are but this one just got careless one night and signed his name on the wrong dotted line. They came for him while he slept.

Oliver: He should have told them they had the wrong man.

Henry: Oh he did, but you see they didn't, they had the right man and they had the form to prove it.

Oliver: Te. bloody red tape eh? And the bad news?

Queen: The bad news is that actually there are simply million of Protestant who desperately want their heads sneaked off and there's no-one to organise it.

Oliver: Hm, well I pity the poor sod who gets the job. No-one ever survives it more than a week.

Henry: Mhm. I have taken the liberty mam, of drawing up a list of suitable candidates.

Queen: Oh goodo, let's hear it.

Henry: List for the post of Lord High Executioner - Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Ah eh?

SCENE 3 (Back at Oliver Westadder's home)

Oliver: Right then. Let's take a look shall we? Who's first into the head basket then? Grand Admiral Sir Eric and Grand Admiral Sir Ernest on Monday.

Thomas: That should draw a crowd.

Oliver: Hm?

Thomas: Well, sailing enthusiasts.

Oliver: Oh yes, better make sure there's a few anchors and things on the souvenir stall.

Thomas: Aye, aye, sir.

Oliver: Never, ever try to be funny in my presence again Thomas. Right, Grand Marshal Culdee and Grand Marshal Stanley on Friday. Oh wait a minute. Lord Kelly on Wednesday. Who's Lord Kelly when he's not having his head cut off?

Thomas: Ah, Kelly, pleasant bloke from Machan.

Oliver: Don't know him, never will either. Yes, and he goes on Wednesday?

Thomas: Hmm.

Oliver: It's not right though, is it?

Thomas: Well no! I mean now you come to mention it, my Lord, there was absolutely no evidence against young Kelly at all! It was an outrageous travesty of justice!

Oliver: No, it's not right that he should be on Wednesday when we could stick him in on Monday and have half the week off.

Thomas: Oh I see. Yes, that's right.

Oliver: Pop him in on Monday. Right, good! Five dead in two days. Not a bad start. Oh yes Thomas, and the new rough?

Thomas: Better?

Oliver: Worse.

Thomas: Ah, the fashion today is towards the tiny.

Oliver: In that case, Thomas, you have the most fashionable brain in Suddery.

SCENE 4 (At the jails)

Oliver: Right, good morning team. My name is Oliver Westadder and I'm the new minister in charge of religious genocide. Now, if you play straight with me you'll find me a considerate employer, but cross me and you'll find that under this playful boyish exterior beats the heart of a ruthless sadistic maniac. Now my man you are?

Mr. Diesel: Eh, jailor Sir, my Lord.

Oliver: Good, well done and your name is?

Mr. Diesel: Diesel Sir.

Oliver: Diesel?

Mr. Diesel: Yes Sir.

Oliver: Diesel the jailor?

Mr. Diesel: That's right Sir. Diesel son of Diesel.

Oliver: Diesel, son of Diesel the jailor?

Mr. Diesel: Ah ach no Sir. I am the first Diesel to rise to be jailor. My father, Daddy Diesel was known as Diesel the slopper. It was from him that I inherited my fascinating skin diseases.

Oliver: Yes you are to be congratulated, my friend, we, we live in an age where illness and deformity are common place and yet Diesel, you are without a doubt the most repulsive individual that I have ever met. I would shake your hand but I fear it would come off.

Mr. Diesel: There's no many bosses would be that considerate sir.

Oliver: Thank you Diesel, I do my best. Now then woman. if indeed you are a woman, what is your function on death row?

Mrs. Diesel: I'm the last meal cook Sir. The prisoners may ask for what they fancy for there last meal...

Oliver: And you cook for them what they desire?

Mrs. Diesel: Oh yes Sir, provided they ask for sausages. Otherwise they tend to get a tiny bit disappointed. Sausages is all I got.

Oliver: You are clearly a woman of principle and compassion mistress eh?

Mrs. Diesel: Diesel Sir.

Oliver: Ah, so you are married to...

Mrs. Diesel: No, many people think that but it's pure coincidence. We did laugh when first we found out. "Good morning" mistress Diesel he'd say, and I'd say "good morning ..

Mr. Diesel & Mrs. Diesel: Mr. Diesel" (both laugh)

Oliver: The long winter evenings must just fly by. Ah! and you must be the boy who makes the tea?

Mr. Diesel: Ah no Sir, he's the executioner but he does sometime make the tea.

Oliver: Yes, and your name is?

Percy: Percy my Lord, but I'll change it to Diesel if it'll make things easier.

Oliver: No thank you. I can cope with more than one name. What are you doing here?

Percy: Well, it's a hobby

Mrs. Diesel: It would be more, more fun Sir if he were to change his name. Give the place a more family atmosphere.

Oliver: A family atmosphere? This is meant to be a place of pain and misery and sorrow.

Mrs. Diesel: That's what I mean Sir.

Mr. Diesel: Eh, Mistress Diesel is a bit of a social realist Sir.

Oliver: Now then, we're going to run a fast efficient operation and I intend to do as little work as possible. My deputy Thomas here will explain.

Thomas: Good afternoon staff, my name is Lord Thomas and if you play fair by me you will find me a considerate employer, but if you cross me BY JOVE, you ...

Oliver: Just tell'em the plan stumpy.

Thomas: My Lord, not in front of the staff.

Oliver: Get on with it.

Thomas: Right Staff, as you know we are scheduled to execute Grand Admiral Alaric and Grand Admiral Eric on Monday, Lord Kelly on Wednesday and Grand Marshal Culdee and Grand Marshal Stanley on Friday. But in order to give us the middle of the week off, Lord Westadder has decided to move Kelly to Monday.

Oliver: Lets just say he's got time off for good behaviour.

SCENE 5 (The Royal Palace)

Lady Kelly: Your Majesty.

Queen: Yes Lady Kelly?

Lady Kelly: My husband dies tomorrow. I besiege you, even if you cannot save his life-

Queen: Which I don't think either of us would want seeing as how he's a horrible traitor!

Lady Kelly: Of course not Your Majesty. But if he must die, may I see him?

Queen: But of course. What's she asking me for? Why doesn't she just go along to the execution with everyone else?

Henry: No Your Majesty, I don't believe she wants to see him die, I believe she wants to see him before he dies.

Queen: How odd.

Henry: Your Majesty?

Queen: She's not seen him! I wouldn't marry someone I'd never seen. You should take marriage a bit more seriously next time!

Lady Kelly: (cries)

Queen: Oh come now Lady Kelly, crying isn't going to help your husband now.

Nursie: No! Ointment! That's what you need when your head's been cut off! That's what I gave your sister Daisy when they done her. "There, there" I said, "you'll soon grow a new one."

Queen: Shut up Nursie. Of course you may see your husband my dear, and if the horrid old Oliver tries to stop you give him this. It's a warrent, for his own execution!

Lady Kelly: Oh thank you Mam. May flights of angels sing you to your rest!

Queen: Yes, I'm sure they will!

SCENE 6 (Westadder's Home)

Thomas: Hip, hip ...

Oliver: So, they're all dead are they?

Thomas: Yep, all three Alaric, Eric, Kelly

Oliver: Splendid, any interesting last words

Thomas: Well Kelly was rather moving my Lord. A great strong man, he stood there, gaunt and noble in the early morning mist and in a loud clear voice he cried out "My wife might have bloody well turned up"

Oliver: Ha, she's probably shacked up with some new pair of tights already. Right well unless Lord Thomas has anything to add, you lot can amuse yourselves in whatever foul depraved way you feel fit til' Friday.

Mr. Diesel & Thomas: Thank you Sir.

Thomas: Well staff, eh I've got a few notes on today's show. On the whole I was impressed

Oliver: They've gone Thomas

Thomas: Eh eh eh team, team.

Percy: My Lord, there is a lady outside to see you.

Oliver: Oh is she pretty?

Percy: I don't know, what d'you think?

Oliver: Well I don't know do I? I haven't seen her yet. Make yourself scarce Percy.

Percy: Oh right.

Lady Kelly: Good evening Lord Westadder.

Oliver: Well it certainly is now. Perhaps you'd like to slip into something more comfortable.

Lady Kelly: No, my lord, for there is a great pain in my heart.

Oliver: It's probably indigestion, I'll soon take your mind off that.

Lady Kelly: It's my husband.

Oliver: Your husband's got indigestion? Well, he won't be bothering us then.

Lady Kelly: No, he dies tomorrow.

Oliver: Oh come, you can't die of indigestion, you're over dramatising.

Lady Kelly: He is to be executed at your order. I am Lady Kelly.

Oliver: Ah, and what exactly did you want of me?

Lady Kelly: I wish to see my husband tonight.

Oliver: Ehe! Not really possible actually.

Lady Kelly: (Starts to whimper)

Oliver: Excuse me just a second. Percy!

Percy: My lord?

Oliver: That Kelly bloke you executed today, are you sure he's dead?

Percy: Well I chopped his head off, that usually does the trick.

Oliver: Yes, don't get clever with me Percy. I just thought you might have lopped off a leg or something by mistake.

Percy: No, the thing I chopped off had a nose.

Oliver: Fine! Yes, I'm so sorry. I've just been consulting my legal people and I'm afraid there really is no chance of a meeting.

Lady Kelly: But the queen told me it would be allowed.

Oliver: Really?

Lady Kelly: Yes, and that if you said "no", I should give you this.

Oliver: Eh he! Fine, fine, absolutely, why not?

SCENE 7 (At the jails)

Oliver: Right Percy, is that all clear?

Percy: Yes, em, I've killed someone I shouldn't have killed, and now you want me to put a lady on my head and talk to his old bag.

Oliver: No, I want you to put a bag on your head and talk to his old lady.

Percy: Why? Why do I want a bag on my head?

Oliver: In order, nincompoop, that she should believe that you're her husband.

Percy: Why, did he used to wear a bag on his head?

Mr. Diesel: Young, young Diesel here has a point My Lord, Lord Kelly never wore a bag, he was an old fashioned sort of gent.

Oliver: Look-

Thomas: Well, yes, My Lord, I mean, I hadn't meant to mention it but I have been wondering all along why you should think Percy with a bag on his head is going to be a dead ringer for Lord Kelly, because he's not!

Oliver: Look, cretins, the bag is there in order to obscure Percys own features, and many might think, incidently, that that would be reason enough for him to wear it. Before I bring in Lady Kelly I shall explain to her, inventing some cunningly plausible excuse, that her husband has taken to wearing a bag. She can then chat to Percy imagining him to be the man she married and the queen need never know of my little miscalculation.

Mr. Diesel: Why, My Lord, that is a brilliant plan.

Thomas: Foolproof.

Oliver: You're very kind.

Mr. Diesel: Although there is something lurking at the back of my head that bothers me.

Oliver: It's probably a flea.

Enter Mrs. Diesel

Mrs. Diesel: Your lordship, Lady Kelly awaits your pleasure.

Oliver: All right, OK. Go on, quick! Quick!

Exit Thomas, Mr. Diesel, Mrs Diesel

Oliver: Ah, Lady Kelly, what a real pleasure it is to see you again.

Lady Kelly: It is my beloved that I shall be pleased to see.

Oliver: Well quite, quite. Though I should warn you that he, eh, he will not be quite as you knew him.

Lady Kelly: You fiend! What have you done to him?

Oliver: We have put... a bag over his head.

Lady Kelly: Why?

Oliver: Well, the thing is, you see, none of the other prisoners have such shapely widows, baa wives I should say, and therefore in the interests of the condemned community, your husband has nobly agreed to wear a bag. It was either that or have all the other prisoners in there with you.

Lady Kelly: How like him to make such a gesture.

Oliver: Yes, yes. Well I'll just go and check he's bagged up. Right Percy, this is it.

Enter Mr. Diesel, Thomas

Mr. Diesel: My lord!

Oliver: Oh what is it now Diesel?

Mr. Diesel: I have located my nagging doubt. It's a small point, but I do now recall that Lord Kelly was considerably taller, more than a yard taller, than young Diesel here.

Oliver: If you want something done properly you've got to do it yourself, haven't you? Anything else I should know?

Mr. Diesel: Oh yes, he had a very deep voice, big deep booming voice.

Oliver: So quite like mine then?

Mr. Diesel: No, my lord, a big deep booming voice.

Oliver: Well mine's quite deep.

Mr. Diesel: Ah not like his, and in fact, he was even taller than you, my lord. Oh a giant of a man.

Oliver: Yes, all right, all right, don't rub it in. Thomas, you'd better go and have another word with her. Go on, go on.

Thomas: Em, sorry about the delay madam, eh, as you know, you are about to meet your husband, whom you will recognise on account of the fact that he has a bag over his head.

Lady Kelly: Why I would know my darling anywhere.

Thomas: Well, yes, there are a couple of other things.

Lady Kelly: I am prepared for the fact that he may have lost some weight.

Thomas: Yes, and some height. That's the interesting thing, eh, you'll probably hardly recognise him at all actually.

Lady Kelly: You'll be telling me his arm's grown back next.

Thomas: Eh, excuse just for a sec. He's only got one arm!

Mr. Diesel: Ah yes!

Oliver: Oh well I shall just have to stick it inside the shirt. Which one? Which one?

Thomas: Eh, eh, hang on! Em hang on! Em, em, eh, how do we know you're his wife?

Lady Kelly: What?

Thomas: Em, well, you know, you could be a gloater.

Lady Kelly: I beg pardon.

Thomas: You know, a gloater, eh, come to gloat over the condemned man. I mean we're up to our ears is gloater here. "Can I come in for a gloat?" they shout and we shout back "Oh you heartless gloaters".

Lady Kelly: (cries)

Thomas: All right, all right, I tell you what. I'll believe you're not a gloater if you tell me which arm he hasn't got.

Lady Kelly: His left of course! Now let me see my husband!

Thomas: Right! it's the left. Good luck!

Oliver: Gloaters, you really are a pratt aren't you Thomas ? Right, don't forget in two minutes you interrupt me all right ? And no more than two minutes otherwise I'm in real trouble, and don't forget because..?

Percy: Because we're not at home to Mr. Cockup!

Oliver: Correct.

Mr. Diesel: Remember the voice my lord.

Oliver: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Exit Thomas, Percy, Mr. Diesel.

Oliver: Enter.

Lady Kelly: Kelly?

Oliver: My darling!

Lady Kelly: How are you?

Oliver: Oh fine, fine. Food's not bad. Apart from the sausages.

Lady Kelly: You're voice is somehow different.

Oliver: Oh, how?

Lady Kelly: Somehow lighter, not as deep or booming as once it was.

Oliver: Is that better?

Lady Kelly: Oh my darling! Oh call me by that name you always called me to show your love is still strong.

Oliver: Ah yes, look, do you think this is quite the time or the place for that sort of thing?

Lady Kelly: Please!

Oliver: Em this is the specific secret little name that I always used to call you? You want to be called it again, is that right?

Lady Kelly: Yes, the one like 'your little pumpkin'.

Oliver: The one like 'your little pumpkin' but not actually 'your little pumpkin' ?

Lady Kelly: No.

Oliver: Em, right then, my little pumpkinywumpkiny ?

Lady Kelly: Oh my darling! AH! Your arm!

Oliver: What's wrong with it?

Lady Kelly: What happened to it?

Oliver: Well, well, I'm rather hurt you don't remember yourself in fact.

Lady Kelly: But it was only cut off at the elbow.

Oliver: Aagh!

Lady Kelly: What happened to the rest?

Oliver: Ah, yes, well, well I got into a scrap here with a fellow who called you a nosey little strumpet who was always going blabbing to the queen.

Lady Kelly: Oh!

Oliver: And we got into a fight, and he cut off the top half.

Lady Kelly: Oh alas!

Oliver: Eh, ah, yes of course, well I think you'd better be going. Lord Westadder said he was going to be sending in his servant Percy to collect me.

Lady Kelly: Perhaps, my lord, he is leaving us for a little longer.

Oliver: Oh no, no, no. I shouldn't think so. Percy! He's usually very punctual.

Lady Kelly: Perhaps this Percy is doing it out of kindness.

Oliver: Oh no, I shouldn't think so. Percy! He, he he's a very unkind person.

Lady Kelly: Well then, let us leap on the moment that we have been given and use it to its full.

Oliver: What ?

Lady Kelly: Let me do this last thing for you! What wife could do more?

Oliver: What? Oh, I see.

Enter Percy.

Percy: Right, that's it. Time up!

Oliver: No it isn't.

Percy: Yes it is! Come along. Time's up! Come along.

Lady Kelly: Oh we've had so little time. May we finish what we began in paradise. Farewell.  
Percy Farewell.

Exit Lady Kelly.

Oliver: Percy, you bastard! You utter bastard! That was the first time ever, in my whole life. I've been on this pultry, boring planet for 30 years and that's the first time ever anyone has ever attempted...

Enter Lady Kelly.

Lady Kelly: But do not despair my lord. Your brother petitions the queen tomorrow morning. There may still be hope!

Exit Lady Kelly.

Oliver: What?

Percy: Shall I prepare the guest room for Mr. Cockup my lord?

SCENE 8 (The Royal Palace)

Queen: Oh yes alright then, let him off. He probably is innocent anyway.

Kelly: My lady! May the heavens rain down radiant jewels and sweet meats apon you.

Queen: Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

Kelly: And may Cherabim and Seraphim...

Queen: Out!

Oliver: My lady, about Lord Kelly.

Queen: I've let him off.

Oliver: No, no, no, no, you can't. He's a complete cad of the first water.

Queen: 'Can't' is not a word for princes Lord Westadder.

Henry: How very true majesty.

Queen: Anyway, I won't be argued with, will I Nursey?

Nursie: Well sometimes my darling when you want something very naughty. No you won't be argued with absolutely not.

Queen: Precisely. So Lord Westadder ha! I want to see Lord Kelly here in 1 hour. Meanwhile, I shall spend the time visiting my old friend Lord Stanley who I believe I'm having killed on Friday - Come on Nursey, let's see if there are any good heads in Traitor's Cloister on the way!

Oliver: Thomas, this is a very difficult situation.

Thomas: Yes, my lord.

Oliver: Someone's for the chop. You or me in fact.

Thomas: Ah yes.

Oliver: Let's face facts Tommie, it's you!

Thomas: Except, Exc-ept, I may have a plan.

Oliver: Oh yes.

Thomas: Yes, eh, eh. How about if we get Lord Kelly's head and body and we take it to the queen, except, exc-ept just before we get in, we start shouting and screaming, and then we come in saying "We were just on our way when he said something traitorous and so we cut his head off in the corridor just to teach him a lesson".

Oliver: Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! Contemptible! Worth a try. Where did we put the head?

Thomas: It's on a spike in traitor's cloister.

Oliver: Oh God, well that's where the queen's gone! Did she know Kelly?

Thomas: Oh yes, they were childhood friends.

Oliver: Well what if she sees his head on a spike? She'll, she'll, she'll realise he's dead!

Thomas: Yes.

Oliver: You fetch the body, and I'll cover the head.

SCENE 9 (Traitor's cloister)

Queen: Oh! Hello Oliver. Look I'm sorry I snapped at you just now. You know I'm really very keen on you indeed don't you?

Oliver: Oh yes mam, as you were keen on Essex.

Queen: Exactly!

Oliver: Right up to the point at which you had his head cut off.

Queen: (laughs) He didn't mind that, he knew it was only little me! And I must say, his head did look jolly super on its spike. Are there no heads on spikes today?

Oliver: Em, no. No, we're training up a new executioner and he's a little immature. Takes him forever. Slash, slash, slash. By the time he's finished you don't so much need a spike as a toast rack.

Queen: I like toast. Still, must be off to say bye bye to Stanley. Would you care to stroll with me a while just if you've got time, if you're not to busy.

Oliver: No, sorry mam, affairs at office-

Queen: I said "Would you care to stroll with me a while, just if you've got time, if YOU'RE NOT TOO BUSY!"

Oliver: It would make the decade worthwhile!

Oliver: And in Genoa, 'tis now the fashion to pin a live frog to the shoulder braid, stand in a bucket and go "bibble" at passers by.

Queen: Oh, our Italian cousins!

Oliver: Well if you'll excuse me mam, I've got some business to attend to.

Queen: Certainly. But first Oliver, take my hand. Tell me you forgive my former sharpness.

Oliver: Em. M'lady

Queen: Sweet Lord Westadder.

Exit Queen, Nursie. Enter Thomas.

Oliver: Thomas.

Thomas: Well, I've got the body my lord and I see you've got the head.

Oliver: Yes but look it's no good Thomas, no-one's ever going to believe we've just cut it off, it's gone green! We're doomed.

Thomas: Doomed. Oh wait a moment, that's not Kelly!

Oliver: Isn't it?

Thomas: No, that's Stanley.

Oliver: My God, Stanley! That genius Percy has killed the wrong bloke. We're saved.

Thomas: Saved.

Oliver: Then Kelly is alive and we're saved.

Thomas: Hooray!

Oliver: And when the queen gets back from seeing Stanley we'll - Oh God!

Thomas: Oh doomed! Doomed!

SCENE 10 (At the jails)

Queen: It's not very nice here is it?

Nursie: No, it's not meant to be my pikelet. This is where all the horrid people who don't like you live.

Queen: Hmm, I suppose so. It's a bit smelly too, isn't it?

Nursie: Ah well of course I'm used to that. In the mornings when you were a little baby ...

Queen: Shut up Nursey! You - No not you, you're too repulsive. You!

Percy: Yes, your Royal Majestic highness.

Queen: Bring in Lord Stanley.

Percy: Yes your royal majestic .. thing!

Queen: So strange, Stanley turned out to be a traitor. You would have thought that he'd have had problems enough - what with that hunch, and only having one leg!

Nursie: Yes and that terrible speech problem

Thomas: Your majesty.. Lord Stanley...

Oliver: Your royal majesty. Sorry about the baaag. Didn't have time to shave!

His friend grand father was a king  
Although, for only thirty seconds  
When put in charge of beheading  
He felt that fame and glory beckoned  
Oliver, Oliver, no such bloomin' luck  
Oliver, Oliver, Sudric schmuck  
Oliver, Oliver, nothing goes as planned  
Oliver, Oliver, life deals him a bum hand  
THE END

**Please review!**


	3. Potato

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Sorry for any of those felt insulted because it is a parody that dose not make no sense at all!

**Episode Three**  
**Potatoe**

"Westadder sets out on a quest for new spuds and to boldly go where Sir Salty "rather-a-wuss" Dockside has already gone before."

**Guest Starring**

Salty the Dockside Diesel as Grand Admiral Sir Salty Dockside  
Harvey the Crane Engine as Captain Waterwork Harvey

(Westadder's house. Enter Thomas wearing a matching red outfit and hat - with antlers. The outfit is covered in bells which ring as he walks. Sounds of a celebration are heard outside)

Thomas: Coming?

Oliver: Nope [offhandedly closing door on Thomas]

Thomas: [re-entering] It will be a once in a lifetime experience.

Oliver: No it won't [closing the door with his foot. Thomas makes a "wauh" noise as he is shoved out]

Thomas: [entering again, holding his nose] Everybody's going.

Oliver: Don't exaggerate, Thomas. I'm not going, Mrs. Miggins from the pie shop isn't going...242

Thomas: Oh, my lord, you are cruel; you know perfectly well that Mrs. Miggins is bedridden from the nose down [postures, with his hand on his hip] And besides, she is honouring the occasion in her own special way by baking a great commemorative pie, in the shape of an enormous pie!

Oliver: What an imagination that woman has. [The crowd's cheering swells outside]

Thomas: Oh, come on Oliver! The greatest explorer of our age is coming home. The streets have never been so gay! Women are laughing, children are singing... Oh look! [pointing out the window] there's a man being indecently assaulted by nine foreign sailors, and he's still got a smile on his face!

Oliver: Look, Thomas, the return of Sir Salty "Ooh what a big ship I've got" Dockside is a matter of supreme indifference to me.

Thomas: [leaning in towards him] Look, if you're not careful, all the children will dance about outside your window, singing "sourpuss" and "grumpy face", and you wouldn't want that, now would you?

Oliver: I believe I could survive it. Now, Thomas, will you get out before I cut off your head, scoop out the insides, and give it to your mother as a vase?! [goes over to Thomas, and, dragging him by his antlers, throws him out again. Slams door] What a clot. The most absurdly dressed creature in Christendom [enter Percy, wearing a "dung-gatherer's" version of same. The hat is brown with branches sticking off the top] (Pauses) With one exception.

Percy: [looking up at him] My lord?

Oliver: Percy, you look like a deer.

Percy: Thank you my lord. You look a bit of a ducky yourself.

Oliver: Oh God. [in disgust] What do you want?

Percy: Well, I was wondering if I might have the afternoon off?

Oliver: Of course not; who do you think you are, Watt Tyler? You can have the afternoon off when you DIE, not before.

Percy: But I want to cheer brave Sir Salty home. Oh, dear sir, on a day like today I feel proud to be a member of the greatest kingdom in the world.

Oliver: And doubtless many other members of the animal kingdom feel the same way but - [crowd cheering rises again. Oliver gestures threateningly at the window] Look, will you shut up?! Bloody explorers, ponce off to mumbo-jumbo-land, come home with a tropical disease, a suntan and a bag of brown lumpy things, and, Bob's your uncle, everyone's got a picture of them in the lavatory. I mean, what about the people that do all the work?

Percy: The servants.

Oliver: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work. I mean *look* at this! [goes to a table at the side of the room and picks up a small brown thing and holds it up] *What* is it?

Percy: Oh, I'm surprised you've forgotten, my lord.

Oliver: I haven't forgotten; it's a rhetorical question.

Percy: [looking at him] No, it's a potato.

Oliver: To you it's a potato, to me it's a potato. But to Sir Salty Bloody Dockside it's country estates, fine carriages, and as many girls as his tongue can cope with. He's making a fortune out of the things; people are smoking them building houses out of them... They'll be eating them next. [shoves it into Percy's chest; Percy takes it and looks at it]

Percy: Stranger things have happened.

Oliver: Oh, exactly.

Percy: [continues] That horse becoming Pope.

Oliver: The what? [Someone knocks on the door and Percy goes to answer it] Oh God. Probably some birk with parrot on his shoulder selling plaster gnomes of Sir Ernest and his Golden behind [A child is heard outside singing "sourpuss, grumpy face, sourpuss, grumpy face..." Oliver pulls out a bow, nocks an arrow and shoots. The singing stops with an abrupt "aah! Mummy..."] Oliver shouts out the window] And another thing: why aren't you at school?

[Henry, followed by Percy comes in the room]

Henry: Oliver, started talking to yourself I see.

Oliver: [Turning away from the window] Yes, it's the only way I can be sure of intelligent conversation. What do you want?

Henry: Well I just looked in on my way to the palace to welcome Sir Salty home; I wondered if you cared to accompany me.

Oliver: I don't think I'll bother, actually; three hours of bluff seaman's talk about picking the weevils out of biscuits and drinking urine is not my idea of a good time.

Henry: As you wish. [To Percy] Servant, my hat. [Percy leaves. Henry holds out a box toward Oliver] Potato?

Oliver: Thanks, I don't. [Henry takes a bite of one]. I see you haven't succumbed to this fad of dressing up like half an allotment in Kellaby. [Percy enters carrying Henry's hat]

Percy: There you go, my lord [hands Henry his hat. It is decorated with not only antlers but feathers as well]

Oliver: -You have.

Henry: It's probably just as well you're not coming, Oliver, you're not very popular at court at the moment, and the Queen and I have- [Oliver interrupts him]

Oliver: -Yes, well I can probably leave this 'til tomorrow in fact. [over Henry's protests "you needn't bother"]. No, no, I'll come with you; obviously the Queen and I will be the only ones even *vaguely* sensibly dressed. [follows Henry out and slams the door behind him]

[cut to the Queen, who is wearing an eyepatch and a special matching crown. A knock is heard at the door]

Queen: Who is it?

Henry: Heny, Lady. [He tries to open the door]

Queen: [keeping door closed with her hand] -But soft! Close your eyes! [She runs back to throne next to Nursie] Now enter! [He enters, hand draped melodramatically over eyes. Queen says:] Ahoy there, me shivering matey, heave-ho! [Seats herself]. Right, open your eyes.

Henry: Thank you, Majesty. And- [bows slightly, pretends to look around in puzzlement]

Queen: [smiling widely but playing the innocent] Why, what's the matter, Heny?

Henry: Well, I beg your pardon, my Lady. I was wanting to greet the gallant sailor who hallooed me as I came in

[Queen squeals with delight] Perchance he has hauled anchor and sailed away. [Oliver is looking disgusted in the background]

Queen: [slyly] No- it was me!

Henry: Majesty! Surely not!

Oliver: You utter creep. [Henry gives him a condescending look and moves out of his way so the Queen can greet Oliver] So. Where's this barnacle-bottomed, haddock-flavored, bilge-rat Sir rather-a-wally Dockside then? I hear about as exciting as one of his carrots.

Queen: Oliver's a frightful old lubber, eh Heny?

Henry: Well indubitably no sea-dog, Ma'am. With a Yo-ho-ho and perhaps, I might venture, a bottle of rum into the bargain?

[A high whistle sounds, like the now-hear-this in ST:TOS]

Queen: It's him! Oh God, [picks up a hand mirror] do I look absolutely divine and regal and yet at the same time very pretty and rather accessible?

Henry: [bowing] You are every jolly jacktar's dream, Majesty.

Queen: I thought as much. If he's really gorgeous, I'm thinking of marrying him.

Oliver: Ma'am, is that not a little rash?

Queen: I don't think so.

Nursie: It wouldn't be your first little rash if it was.

[The whistle sounds again and Sir Salty with a flourish and bows deeply and elaborately. They all applaud him for his feats.]

Sir Salty: Majesty! [he sings out]

Queen: Splice me timbers, Sir Salty, it's bucko to see you, old matey!

Sir Salty: I'm sorry?

Oliver: [caustically] She says hello.

Sir Salty: And well she might, for I have bought her gifts and dominions beyond her wildest dreams [taking off his hat and bowing with a flourish again]

Queen: Are you sure? I have some pretty wild dreams, you know... I'm not sure what they mean, but the other day there was this enormous tree, and I was sitting right on top of it-

Henry: [warningly] Ma'am

Queen: And then I dreamt once that I was a sausage roll-

Henry: Majesty-

Queen: Sorry! So excited! Don't know what I'm saying. Oh- come on, Sir Salty, I want to hear about absolutely everything!

Sir Salty: [launches into storytelling mode] Then, prepare to hear tales of terrible hardship, endurance and woe. [All settle] We set sail from Brendam in the spring of 1552 [Oliver yawns quite audibly]

Queen: [disparagingly] You remember Lord Oliver...

Sir Salty: [Nods] No. But I can see he is the sort of pasty landlubber I have always despised [All laugh except Oliver].

Queen: Well, quite. [Angrily] Don't crowd Sir Salty, Oliver.

Sir Salty: [continues] Twice, last week, I fought in hand to hand combat with a man with two heads and no body hair. I'll warrant, the most exciting thing that has happened to that limpid prawn in a whole year, was the day his servant forgot to put sugar in his porridge [Oliver smiles tensely as they all laugh at him]

Queen: [to Sir Salty] Gosh, you've got nice legs.

Sir Salty: [continuing on as if he hasn't heard] While I hold the six seas of the world in my hand, he couldn't even put six gob-stoppers in his mouth! [all laugh]

Queen: He's a complete no-hoper, isn't he, Walt?

Sir Salty: He certainly is. [more laughing. Queen stops and says:]

Queen: My bedroom's just upstairs, you know.

Henry: I had heard, Sir Salty, that there were only[sic] seven seas.

Sir Salty: Ah, only numerically speaking. We sailors do not count the sea around the Cape of Good Hope. It is called the Sea of Certain Death, and no sailor has crossed it alive.

Oliver: [butts in] Well, well, well, what an extraordinary coincidence.

Queen: What's an extraordinary coincidence? [not caring]

Oliver: Oh, it's just I was planning a jaunt around the Cape of Good Hope, myself. I'm leaving a week on Thursday, I think. [Queen: "Really?"] Yes, and now that, erm - Sorry, I've forgotten your name- has returned and the whole court smells of fish, I've half a mind to set off this afternoon.

Sir Salty: If you attempt that journey, you've no mind at all.

Oliver: Or perhaps a mind that knows no fear.

Queen: Is that true, Oliver? Do you know no fear?

Oliver: Well, yes, I do rather laugh in the face of fear, tweak the nose of terror.

Queen: Gosh, Oliver, I'd forgotten how dishy you are.

Sir Salty: You'd never dare. Why, 'round the Cape, the rain beats down so hard it makes your head bleed!

Oliver: So, some sort of hat is probably in order.

Sir Salty: And great dragons leap from the water and swallow ships whole!

Oliver: -I must remember to pack the larger of my two shrimping nets.

Queen: Oliver, you are completely wonderful. If you do this, I'll probably marry you [All leave Sir Salty's side and go flank Oliver]

Sir Salty: Oh yes? And who will be your captain? Hmph! To my mind, there is only one seafarer with few enough marbles to attempt that journey.

Oliver: Ah yes, and who is that?

Sir Salty: Why, Harvey, of course. Captain Waterwork Harvey.

Oliver: Well done. Just testing. And where would I find him on a Tuesday?

Sir Salty: Well, if I remember his habits, he's usually up the Old Sea Dog.

Oliver: Ah yes, and where is the Old Sea Dog?

Sir Salty: Well, on Tuesdays he's normally in bed with the Captain.

[cut to a table in a dark room. Rum is sitting with his back against a wall]

Harvey: Aaaaaaahrrrrr Aaaaaaahrrrrr Aaaaaaaaaaahrrrrr. Me laddy.

Oliver: Ah-haah-ah, indeed. So, Harvey, I wish to hire you and your ship. Can we shake on it? [holds out hand]

Harvey: aah-ahhh! [strokes his hand] You have a woman's hand, milord! I'll wager these dainty pinkies never weighed anchor in a storm.

Oliver: Well, you're right there.

Harvey: Ha ha ha. -Aah! Your skin milord. I'll wager it ne'er felt the lash of a cat ['o' nine tails], been rubbed with salt, and then flayed off by a pirate chief to make fine stockings for his best cabin boy.

Oliver: How canny, I don't know how you do it, but you're right again.

Harvey: Why should I let a stupid cockerel like you aboard me boat?

Oliver: Perhaps for the money in my purse [holding it up]

Harvey: Ha. -Aah! You have a woman's purse! [takes it from him and examines it daintily] I'll wager that purse has never been used as a rowing-boat. I'll wager it's never had sixteen shipwrecked mariners tossing in it.

Oliver: Yes, right again, Harvey. I must say when it comes to tales of courage I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut.

Harvey: Oh! You have a woman's mouth, milord! I'll wager that mouth never had to chew through the side of a ship to escape the dreadful spindly killer fish.

Oliver: I must say, when I came to see you, I had no idea I was going to have to eat your ship as well as hire it. And since you're clearly as mad as a Diesel Engine I'll bid you farewell [gets up]

Harvey: Aaah, courtiers to the Queen, you're nothing but lapdogs to a slip of a girl.

Oliver: Better a "lapdog to a slip of a girl", than a... Git.

Harvey: So you do have some spunk in you! Don't worry, laddie, I'll come, I'll come [holds out his hand]

Oliver: Well, let us set sail as soon as we can. [they shake] I will fetch my first mate, and then I'll return as fast as my legs will carry me.

Harvey: Ah! [pointing] You have a woman's legs, my lord! I'll wager those are legs that have never been sliced clean off by a falling sail, and swept into the sea before your very eyes.

Oliver: [crossly] Well, neither have yours.

Harvey: That's where you're wrong [throws aside table showing his lack of legs]

Oliver: Oh my God!

Harvey: No point in changing your mind now; no one else will come. The whole thing's suicide anyway. What's the first mate's name?

Oliver: Thomas.

Harvey: A nautical cove?

Oliver: Yes! Well... He's a sort of wet fish.

[cut to Thomas and Percy in a room. Percy is folding what appear to be sheets. Perhaps they are sails]

Thomas: [Petulantly]. I'm not coming. I'm just not coming. I mean, of course I'm very *keen* to go on the trip, it's just... unfortunately, uh... I've got an appointment... to have my nostrils plucked... next year.

Percy: Oh, I'm sorry, my lord. I thought it was because you were a complete coward.

Thomas: [soun ding nervous] Don't be ridiculous, Percy... You know me, I mean... I- laugh in the face of fear, and- tweak the nose- of the- dreadful spindly killer fish. I'm not one of your milksops who's scared out of his mind by the mere sight of water. Gah! [backs away in fear as Percy holds out a goblet of water to his face] Yes, all right, I admit it, I admit it, I'm terrified! You see, Percy, when I was a baby, I was savaged by a turbot [flounder]. Oh, Percy, you can't think of a plan to get me out of this, can you?

Percy: Uh, you can hide, my lord.

Thomas: Hide. Brilliant! Where? [They look around the room. The trunk the sheet came from is standing invitingly wide open]

Percy: Um... [After a few minutes, Percy finally sees the box] In the box!

Thomas: Which one?! [Figures it out]. Ah - perfect! [Gets in the box] Let's practice. All right, Oliver comes in andsays, "Hello, Percy. You haven't seen Thomas, have you?" And you say...

Percy: Uh. [Thinks hard] No, my lord, I haven't seen him all day.

Thomas: Brilliant! [They hear a door slam] Oh my God, here he comes!

[Percy helps close the box lid on top of him]

[Enter Oliver. Percy is standing conspicuously in the middle of the room next to the box]

Oliver: Oh, hello, Perky. Where the Hit's that cretin Thomas; you haven't seen him, have you? [Percy can't remember what he was supposed to say. He thinks about it. Finally, with an air of blustery triumph, he says]

Percy: Yes, my lord! He's hiding on the box!

Oliver: [eyeing the box] Come on, jellybrain. Hurry up, otherwise we'll miss the tide!

[kicks the box, in the manner of, "is there anybody home?!"]

["Oh, Oliver, I'm SO proud," we hear the pleased voice of the Queen, "You're just my complete hero! Oh dear! I'm going all gooey now." We see that Oliver has come to say goodbye and the Queen has greeted him from her throne.]

Oliver: Ma'am, I move that if during my journey I could believe that occasionally you did spare me a thought and, perhaps, go gooey again, I would deem my certain death a minor inconvenience. [Henry makes a face as if something smells]

Queen: [gushy] Oh Ned... [proudly] I've written a poem!

Oliver: Madam, I'm honoured!

Queen: [Opens a folded piece of paper, clears throat].  
When the night is dark,  
and the dogs go bark;  
When the clouds are black,  
and the ducks go- quack;  
[Heny and Dockside nod appreciatively]  
When the sky is blue,  
and the cows go- moo;  
["Oh, yes" Henry smarms]  
Think of lovely Queenie;  
She'll be thinking of you.  
[Heny and Dockside mumble appreciations and applaud. The Queen continues:]  
It's called, "Oliver." Shakespeare gave me a hand with the title, but the rest is all my own work!

Nursie: Tush and fie, my tiddly. You didn't always make such pretty speeches [Queen makes yawning noises] 'Tis but the twinkling of a toe since you could say nothing but, "Lizzie go plop, plop; Lizzie go plop, plop-"

Queen: -[crossly] Oh, put a bung in it, Nursie. Now! I am sure Heny , uh- [pauses] Wally, want to say something as well.

"Sally": Oh, yes indeed! [Crosses over gleefully to Oliver, and says with audible satisfaction] Goodbye, Oliver. I'd say "Bon Voyage," but there's no point. You'll be dead in three months. [Pats him patronizingly on the shoulder]

Oliver: [equally patronizingly] I love you, Salty, I hope you know that

[Henry steps up to Oliver]

Henry: Farewell, Oliver [hands him a parchment]. The foremost cartographers of the land have prepared this for you; it's a map of the area that you'll be traversing. [Oliver opens it up and sees it is blank] -They'll be very grateful if you could just fill it in as you go along. Bye-bye.

[A hearty "arr-arr" is heard in the background]

Queen: What's that? [Percy wheels Harvey in on a wooden cart]

Harvey: To?Tilbury? me hearties! The wind is in the sails, the oars are in the locks! And we must awaaayyy!

[Gestures grandly with his hands]

Oliver: Lady, it is my captain. Long on beard, short on legs.

Queen: Oh, Captain. I wish you luck, from the bottom of my heart

Harvey: [Booming] You have a woman's bottom, my Lady! [Gets wheeled over to her]. I'll wager that sweet round pair of peaches has never been forced 'twixt two splintered planks, to plug a leak and save a ship!

Queen: Certainly hasn't, and I'm quite pleased about it! Anyway, what's wrong with women's bottoms?

Harvey: Not big enough, Ma'am.

Nursie: [Makes a noise of excitement] *Mine* might be!

Harvey: In that case, my little puddin' of delight, let's beat about the bush no longer. I know I'm only a bluff old cove with no legs and a beard you could lose a badger in, but if you'll take me, I'm willing to be captain of your ship, forever! What do you say?

Nursie: [so thrilled she doesn't know what to do with herself] Yes, please!

Harvey: [As Percy wheels him out] I'll be back! We'll all be back!

Queen: Oliver, then, this is it. Oh! [air-kisses his cheeks in a fake show of affection, then gets brisk and "motherly"] Have you got clean underwear? And don't eat foreign food. And watch out for strange men, and discover me a country, and bring me back a vegetable, and -oh- everything!

Oliver: Madam! I shall do all I can. Farewell! [He closes the doors behind them, then comes back] And- don't wait up. [Leaves again]

Queen: [looking gushy, and probably covering Dockside's missing his cue] Gosh.

Sir Salty: Well! That's the last we'll see of him. In three months' time he'll be dead as a [pauses and thinks] dead dodo.

Queen: Oh, Sir Salty, Really! [Henry thinks the pun was intentional and brays appreciatively]

[The scene changes and we are on the ship with Oliver and company. Harvey, then Oliver, then Percy take turns "aaarrr"- and "aaaha"-ing like pirates. All look expectantly at Thomas but he does not follow suit]

Oliver: Not joining us in the "ha-ha"'s, Thomas?

Thomas: [With visible disdain] No! [valiantly] I'm thinking of Sodor and the girl I left behind me.

Oliver: [annoyed] Oh, God; I didn't know you had a girl.

Thomas: [getting all dreamy] Oh, yes. Lady Caroline Fairfax.

Oliver: [surprised] Caroline! I didn't know you knew her.

Thomas: Oh, yes! I even touched her once.

Oliver: [puzzled] Touched her what?

Thomas: Uh, once. In the corridor.

Oliver: I've never heard it called *that* before [pauses and reflects]. Here- when you get home in six months, you'll be a hero. She might even let you get your hands on her twice.

Thomas: I fear not.

Oliver: Why not?

Thomas: Because we'll never get home. We're doomed, doomed! Condemned to a watery grave with a captain who's legless-

Harvey: Rubbish! I've hardly touched a drop!

Thomas: -No, no. I mean you haven't got any legs.

Harvey: Oh, yes, you're right there. Carry on, sorry.

Thomas: [Moans wordlessly] We've got no hope. No hope of ever returning.

Oliver: On the contrary, we are certain to return!

Thomas: What?!

Oliver: Because, me old sods, we are not going to the Cape of Good Hope at all.

All: WHAT?!

Oliver: We are in fact going - to Ireland!

All: Ireland! [Thomas gets to his feet with the shock of the news]

Thomas: But, Oliver, surely Ireland has already been discovered. [points at him] By the Irish for a start.

Oliver: Well, precisely; it's a trick. We just camp down in the Belfast for six months, get a good suntan, come home, pretend we've been 'round the Cape, and get all the glory.

Thomas and Percy: Hooray!

Harvey: A masterly plan, me young master. And one that leads me to make an announcement meself.

Oliver: What's that, Harvey?

Harvey: Truth is, I don't know the way to the Cape of Good Hope anyway.

Oliver: Well, what were you going to do?

Harvey: Oh, what I usually do. Sail 'round and 'round the Isle of Wight 'til everyone gets dizzy. Then head for home.

Oliver: You old rascal. Still, who cares; the day after tomorrow we shall be in Belfast. Captain, [stands and raises his glass] set sail for Ireland!

[All save Harvey raise their glasses and toast, then yell, "Hooray!"]

[The screen blanks and two lines appear in a caption:]

The Day After  
The Day After Tomorrow

[The four are still sitting in the ship's galley, only looking dejected instead of spirited]

Oliver: So. You Don't Know The Way To Ireland, Either.

Harvey: No! I must confess that, too.

Oliver: [turns toward Thomas and Percy as if he is going to announce his revised plan, and says:] Bugger!

[Scene changes to Queen entering a room and Henry and Dockside bowing]

Queen: He's only been gone three days and I am missing him already.

Dockside: [smarmily] Well, perhaps Ma'am, I could amuse you still further with tales of my adventures.

Queen: [menacingly] Like what?

Dockside: Perhaps you would like to hear the one about the mad pirate king, whose crew consisted entirely of men called Roger.

Queen: [bored] Heard it.

Dockside: Oh. Maybe I could distract you with the tale of the time I fell into the water and was almost eaten by a hammerhead shark.

Queen: Yes. All right, try that one.

Dockside: Well, Ma'am. [with a flourish] I fell into the water. [pauses for suspense] and was almost eaten by a shark... And the funny thing is, its head was almost exactly the same shape as a hammer!

Queen: [extremely annoyed] Ooh, God! You'd better come up with some presents, or I'm going to go off explorers completely!

Dockside: Ma'am?

Queen: I'll tell you something else. Oliver was right. You do smell of fish. Pooey! [leaves in a huff]

[change of scene: Harvey, Oliver, Percy and Thomas are sitting around a table in the galley, ostensibly arguing about their plight. Harvey can be clearly distinguished above the rest yelling "Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb! while the rest are actually talking in a way that their characters might]

Oliver: Look, there's no need to panic. Someone in the crew will know how to steer this thing.

Harvey: The crew, milord?

Oliver: Yes, the crew.

Harvey: What crew?

Oliver: I was under the impression that it was common maritime practice for a ship to have a crew.

Harvey: Opinion is divided on the subject.

Oliver: Oh, really? [starting to get the picture]

Harvey: Yahs. All the other captains say it is; I say it isn't.

Oliver: Oh, God; Mad as a brush.

[The scene blanks out and a caption appears:

"Six Months Later"

Henry carries a rolled up parchment which he presents to the Queen]

Henry: Sir Salty Dockside's death warrant for your signature, Majesty.

Queen: [with quill pen at the ready] Oh. Good. Any news of Oliver?

Henry: [smugly] Well, Madam, if they're on course, they should be nearing the urine-drinking stage by now.

Queen: Don't be horrid, Heny. Oliver would rather die!

Henry: I fear that may be wishful thinking, Majesty. [He blows the ink dry on Dockside's death warrant]

[scene change: Oliver is passed out or sleeping at the galley table. A knock comes at the door]

Oliver: Enter. [Percy and Thomas come in, carrying bottles. Oliver sits up and we see he that his face is tired and drawn] So soon?

Thomas: You said today. [They set the bottles on the table]

Oliver: Yes, well, I'm not feeling very thirsty at the moment. I had an egg-cup full of stagnant water three weeks ago... Oh all right, come on, let's get on with it. [He stands up]

Percy: Should we drink each other's or stick to our own?

Oliver: Is Captain Harvey joining us for this bring-a-sample party, or is he going to sit this one out?

Thomas: Oh no, he's been swigging his for ages. He says he likes it. Actually, come to think of it, he started before the water ra n out.

Oliver: Oh, God. [Resigned] Well, let's get on with it.

[Caption appears,  
"Ten Minutes Later"  
Then, we see the three of them with their backs to the camera and their hands apparently in front of them]

Oliver: It's always the same, isn't it; you get all keyed up and then you can't go.

Percy: I've done two bottles [He turns around and places two full bottles on the table]

Oliver: All right, then; pour it out. [Laments] That it should come to this, drinking Percy's water. [He holds out a mug and Percy begins to pour]

Percy: Say when. [Oliver says "When" almost immediately. Percy clinks bottles with Thomas, in a toast, "Down the hatch". They raise the glasses and are about to drink]

Harvey [offscreen]: Land Ahoy! [They stagger as the ship hits something]

Oliver: Ah! Ireland at last!

Harvey: [pops his head in the galley window] No, me young master. Through fair winds and fine seamanship, our vessel is once more edged up on the shores of Old Sordy.

All: Hooray!

Harvey: By lucky chance, we have landed at Brendam dock.

All: Hooray!

Harvey: Fare thee well. The last one up the old sea dog gets a lick of the cat'! [He disappears again, and Percy goes to the window and looks out]

Percy: Don't look much like Knapford to me, my lord.

Oliver: What?

Percy: Well, those streams of molten lava and that steamy mangrove swamp. [Oliver and Thomas begin to look worried, and cross over to the window to look] And that crowd of beckoning natives rubbing their tummies and pointing to a large pot.

Oliver: [rolling eyes] Oh, God.

[Caption appears,  
"Two Years Later"  
Then we see a very disgruntled Dockside wearing a dunce's outfit, with the Queen throwing rings at his cap, and Henry and Nursie looking on]

Queen: Where are they now?

Henry: Well, Madam, if they haven't been eaten by cannibals, they should be back any minute now.

[The door bursts open and Oliver, Thomas and Percy make their entrance, bowing to the Queen]

Oliver: Ma'am!

Queen: [shrieks] Oliver! You're alive!

Oliver: [patronizingly, as if to shrug it off] Oh, yes.

Queen: And your silly friend.

Thomas: Lord Thomas, Ma'am [bowing again].

Queen: And your monkey!

Percy: [bowing] Your Majesty.

Queen: But where is Captain Harvey?

Oliver: Uh, bad news, my Lady; Harvey is dead. [Nursie screws her face up and starts to cry]

Thomas: Do not despair, good woman. He died a hero's death: giving his life that his friends might live.

Oliver: And that his enemies might have something to go with their spuds.

Nursie: You mean they put him in the pot?

Oliver: Yes, your fiancée was only a third-rate sailor, but a first-rate second course. [Nursie starts sobbing again] However, we did manage to save something of him as a memento. [reaches in a large sack they brought in with them, takes out Harvey's beard, and presents it to Nursie] There.

Nursie: Oh, my lucky stars; I shall wear it always, to remind me of him [she puts it on].

Oliver: However, Ma'am, I am now returned, and my mind cannot help remembering talk of wedding bells.

Queen: No, I am completely bored with explorers! And if you haven't brought me any presents, I'm going to have you executed!

Oliver: Ma'am?

Queen: I only let Dockside off because he blubbed on his way to the block. Presents, please!

Oliver: Ah yes, Ma'am. [he backs away, clearly trying to think of a plan] Um, yes. Well, there was one thing, Ma'am, a most extraordinary gift from the island paradise we visited.

Queen: Hurry up!

Oliver: [reaches into a sack Thomas is holding and draws out a boomerang and hands it to her].

Queen: What is it?

Henry: A stick.

Queen: [threateningly] Is it a stick, Lord Oliver?

Oliver: Ah yes, Ma'am, but it is a very special stick. Because when you throw it away, it comes back!

Queen: Well, that's no good, is it; because when *I* throw things away, I don't *want* them to come back! [turns to Thomas] YOU! Get rid of it!

Thomas: Certainly, Ma'am [meekly takes it from her and tosses it behind him]

Queen: What else have you brought?

Oliver: Um, yes, well, there was very little time what with picking the weevils out of biscuits and-

Queen: -Heny, what did I do with that spare death warrant?

[The boomerang comes back and hits Thomas on the head, knocking him down. The Queen changes her mind on the stick]

Queen: Oh, Oliver, it's wonderful! But what about Heny and Dockside? You must have brought something for them as well. [Oliver clears his throat trying to think of something] -Nursie's got her beard, I've got my stick; what about the two boys?

Oliver: [stalling as he turns toward Percy and looks into the sack] Um, yes, well. [Percy puts his hand on Oliver's arm and they turn slightly, allowing Percy to retrieve something from a satchel at his side] There was one thing, Ma'am...

Queen: good...

[Percy pulls out one of the bottles he filled on the ship and hands it to Oliver, so that it looks as though Oliver has taken it out of the sack that he supposedly brought "presents" in]

Oliver: ...A fine wine! [Holds the bottle aloft for all to see] A most delicious beverage! [He uncorks the bottle and pours out two tankards for Henry and Dockside]

Queen: Have a taste, boys, and tell us what you think!

[Percy hands them the tankards and they "sniff the bouquet" and fall over each other trying to praise it to the Queen]

Dockside: Oh, it certainly has plenty of nose!

Henry: Oh yes, this is very familiar.

Oliver: I'm sure you'll be glad to hear [turns and looks at Percy] that there is an inexhaustible supply!

Oliver, Thomas and Percy had  
Discovered new worlds and new nations  
And though Oliver thought them mad  
He tried his hand at navigation  
Oliver, Oliver, he saw the world's foam  
Oliver, Oliver, he should have stayed at home  
Oliver, Oliver, he heard the nature's call  
Oliver, Oliver, discovered bugger-all

- END -

**Please review!**


	4. Money

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Sorry for any of those felt insulted because it is a parody that dose not make no sense at all!

**Episode Four**  
**Money**

**Guest Starring**  
Harold the Helicopter As Bishop of Bishop of Norramby and Culdee  
Toby the Tram Engine as Mr. Tram  
Flora the Tram Engine as Mrs. Tram  
Arthur the Big Tank Engine as Arthur the Sailor  
Smudger as Mad Beggar  
Hank the American Engine as Hanknardo Pennsylvania  
Jeremy the Jet Engine as Messenger  
Lady the Golden Engine as Lady

[In Oliver's bedroom, Oliver is asleep. Beside his head is a pair of feet. The owner of the feet is named Lady.]

[knock at door]

Oliver: Go away.

Percy: (standing at open doorway) My Lord, there is someone at the door to see you.

Oliver: (wearily) Oh god. What time is it?

Percy: Four o'clock.

Oliver: Percy, I've told you before: you mustn't let me sleep all day; this woman charges by the hour.

Percy: No, My Lord, it's four o'clock in the morning.

Oliver: Someone wants to see me at four in the morning? What is he, a giant lark?

Percy: No, he's a priest.

Oliver: Tell him I'm Tao.

Lady: (pushing herself out from beneath the covers at the foot of the bed) Aren't you going to introduce me, then?

Oliver: What?

Lady: Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?

Oliver: Oh very well, but I think you're making a terrible mistake. Percy, I'm delighted to introduce you to ... I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name.

Lady: Lady!

Oliver: Of course, Lady. Percy, this is Lady, a dear friend of mine.

Lady: I'm not dear. I'm very reasonable actually, Percy. Most girls would charge an extra sixpence for all the horrible things he wants to do.

Oliver: Alright, alright. Percy, this is Lady, an inexpensive prostitute. Lady, this is Percy, a pointless peasant. Now let me get some sleep.

Percy: Well, what about this priest?

Oliver: Tell him to take his sacred backside out of here, and what's more, if he comes begging again, tell him I shall report him to the Bishop of Norramby and Culdee, who drowns babies at their christening and eats them in the vestry afterwards.

Percy: Yes, My Lord.

Lady: (sweetly) Bye, Percy!

Percy: (just as so) Bye bye, Lady!

Oliver: Get out; go on! (Percy leaves) You're a one, aren't you? When you should be whispering sweet conversational nothings like "Goodness me, something twice the size of the Royal Barge has just hoved into view between the sheets," you don't say a word, but enter the Creature From The Green Latrine and you won't stop jabbering.

Lady: He was treating me like a human being.

Oliver: Look, if I had wanted a lecture on the rights of Man, I would have gone to bed with Star.

[Percy flies through the door, literally, and remains lying on the floor with door fragments.]

Oliver: (he had just put his head down, and remains so with his eyes closed) Yes, what is it, Percy?

Percy: It's that priest. He says he still wants to see you.

Oliver: And did you mention the baby-eating Bishop of Norramby and Culdee?

Percy: I did, My Lord.

Oliver: And what did he say?

Bishop: (enters; shouts) He said, "I *am* the baby-eating Bishop of Norramby and Culdee!"

Oliver: (sits up with a start) Good lord!

Bishop: You haven't any children, have you, Oliver.

Oliver: No, no, I'm not married.

Bishop: In that case, I'll skip breakfast and get straight down to business. Do you know what day it is today?

Oliver: Er...

Bishop: It was exactly one year ago to the day that the Bank of the White Monks of St. Neville - "Banking with a smile and a stab" - of which I am the assistant manager, lent you one thousand pounds. (kneels down to be face-to-face with Oliver, who begins cowering) Our motto is "Repayment or Revenge."

Oliver: Of course, and naturally I'd have paid you back, but - and this is the real bugger - I've gone and lost my wallet. Has that ever happened to you? Disastrous! It had all my things in it: all those little notes saying "Forget ye not" and, of course, all my money!

Bishop: That's no concern of mine. The debt is now due. Failure to pay back a loan is a sin, and we White Monks, we HATE SIN!

[Bishop lifts up the sheets, revealing that Oliver - dressed in a brief green loincloth - is in bed with Lady.]

Oliver: Ah. Erm, Your Grace, may introduce my mother ... Mother, this is-

Bishop: (recognises Lady) Good morning, my dear! (sits on the bed) I hope you haven't forgotten our appointment.

Lady: (sweetly) Of course not, Choppy!

Bishop: You know, I have a mind, my pretty, to play "Nuns and Novices," so don't forget your wimple.

Lady: OK!

Bishop: (to Oliver) And, as for you, you come with me.

Oliver: (stands) Where?

Bishop: To visit the last poor fool who (draws his sword) LOST HIS WALLET!

(hits Oliver's bare buttocks with sword; Oliver runs out)

[at graveyard; a mad beggar is dancing around (the same one whom Oliver chases in the final credits of each episode).]

Oliver: (reading over a tombstone) "Stanley Rable: born 1513 in New York? With the love of Awdry; died 1563 in ... agony with a spike up his bottom."

Beggar: (comes behind Oliver) Ah! 'Tis ever in sown uncle with the White Monks! (fondles the tombstone) Oh! Screamed, did he - scream and gurgle as they skewered his catflap for once of a farthing!

Bishop: I think you get my message.

Oliver: (stands; the beggar grabs onto his leg; he tries to shake him off as he speaks) Erm, yes, yes indeed. But, tell me, Bishop, let me just test the water here, so to speak. Erm, supposing I was to say to you something like, "I'm a close friend of the Queen's, and I think she'd be very interested to hear about you and Lady and the wimple, so why don't we just call it quits, eh, Fatso?"

Bishop: I would say, firstly, "The Queen would not believe you," and, secondly, (draws a hot poker) "You'll regret calling me 'Fatso', later today!"

Oliver: Ah.

Bishop: I will have my money by Evensong tonight or ... YOUR BOTTOM WILL WISH IT HAD NEVER BEEN BORN!

(exits)

Beggar: (letting go of Oliver's leg finally, stands) Oh! Poor Stanley's cold! Pity poor Stanley, for his nose is frozen, and he does shiver, and HE'S MAD! (waving his arms quite dramatically)

Oliver: Oh shut up! (pushes the beggar into an open grave)

(at Oliver's home)

Oliver: So, lads, I'm up a certain creek without a certain instrument. Either I raise a thousand pounds by this evening, or I get murdered. What should I do?

Percy: It's obvious.

Oliver: What?

Percy: You'll have to get murdered. You'll never raise that sort of money.

Thomas: (looks up from his book, waves his handkerchief about, chuckling) Oh, come now, Percy. A piffling thousand? Pay the fellow, Oliver, and damn his impudence.

Oliver: I haven't got a thousand, dunghead! I've got 85 quid in the whole world! (holds up a small bag)

Thomas: But you're always boasting to the Queen about how wealthy you are.

Oliver: Ah, a cunning web of deceit, subtly spun about the court to improve my standing, unfortunately.

Thomas: (stands) What, do you mean you've been ... fibbing?

Oliver: (sits in chair by the door) Yep. My whole life has been a tissue of whoppers. I consider myself one of Sodor's finest liars. (looks out the door) Oh, my god, Thomas! A giant hummingbird is about to eat your hat and cloak!

Thomas: Oh no! (runs out)

Oliver: (to Percy) You see? I'm terrific at it.

Thomas: (comes back) It seems to have gone now. Well, couldn't you just dip into the family fortune?

Oliver: There isn't one. My father blew it all on wine, women and amateur dramatics. At the end, he was eking out of a living doing humourous impressions of Anne of Cleeves.

Thomas: (sympathetic) Oh, Oliver, I am sorry - I had no idea. But do not despair, for I have some small savings carefully harvested from my weekly allowance, set aside against my frail old age. By lucky haps, it is just over a thousand, methinks, and has for years has been hidden beyond the wit of any thief, in an old sock...

Oliver and Thomas: ...under the squeaky floorboard...

Percy, Oliver and Thomas: ...behind the kitchen dresser.

Thomas: (smiles, slightly warily) You've seen it!

Oliver: Seen it, pinched it, spent it. And same goes for the two farthings Percy thinks he's got hidden inside that mouldy potato.

Percy: Oh, bloody Hit!

Thomas: Then you are doomed. Alas. For God's sake, let us sit upon the carpet (sits on the floor) and tell sad stories.

Oliver: Certainly not! When Lord Oliver is in trouble, he does not sit about.

Percy: You won't be able to sit about with a spike up your bottom.

Oliver: Well, exactly. (sits at his desk) But still, I've got 85 quid and that's a start. I'm sure I'll think of something, as long as I'm not disturbed.

[a messenger enters]

Messenger: M'Lord, wot wot, Da Queen dost demand yer urget presence on pain of death.

Oliver: Oh god! The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Britt's own Brittic herd!

[Oliver walks briskly up the hall and enters court.]

Oliver: Madam, you sent for me...

Queen: (playing chess with Henry) Did I? I don't remember. What a naughty scatterbrain I am! (makes a move on the chess board) Zap! (takes off one of Henry's pieces)

Oliver: Well, perhaps, Ma'am, if I might be allowed to withdraw, I have one or two tiny matters to attend to.

Queen: Certainly.

[Oliver bows, turns, and opens the doors. Henry, Queen and Nursie break into laughter. Oliver turns back.]

Queen: That was a terrific joke, wasn't it?

Henry: Oh, magnificent!

Nursie: And so naughty!

Oliver: What, My Lady?

Queen: I do know why I wanted to see you, and I just pretended I didn't, and I fooled you. And it worked brilliantly, didn't it!

Oliver: It was terrific, Madam. I thank God I wore my corset, because I think my sides have split. So why *did* you want to see me?

Queen: To crack the lovely joke.

Henry: Or perhaps, Oliver, you don't think the Queen's jokes are funny enough for you to be troubled with.

Oliver: Au contraire. I'm ecstatic about the whole incident. I only didn't laugh out loud because I was afraid if I did, my head would've fallen off.

Queen: If you don't start soon, your head *will* fall off! (all laugh) Now pay Heny his 85 pounds and run along.

[Henry, sitting on the floor, his back to Oliver, holds out his hand.]

Oliver: 85 pounds?

Queen: We had a bet. I said that you wouldn't fall for my trick, and Heny said you would because I'm so super and you're so stupid. So you owe him 85 pounds.

Oliver: Fine, fine. I mean, it's only money, isn't it! (gives it to Henry)

[Oliver's house, in hallway. Percy is sweeping the floor. Oliver enters.]

Oliver: I can *not* believe it! She drags me all the way from Billingsgate to Richmond to play about the weakest practical joke since Cardinal Parker got his knob out at Hampton Court and stood at the end of the passag pretending to be a door.

[Percy giggles]

Oliver: Oh, shut up, Percy - you'd laugh at a Shakespeare comedy.

Thomas: (rushes out of the living room) Oliver, oh Oliver, I've awaited your return! (hugs him)

Oliver: And thank God you did, for I was just thinking, "My god! I die in 12 hours. What I really need now is a hug from a complete prat!" (enters the living room)

Thomas: But fear not, for I have a plan to save the life of my dear dear friend.

Oliver: Look, I'm not interested in your bloody friends! What about me?

Thomas: (giggles) Not bad, Oliver. That's a good one.

Oliver: Oh, alright, then. (sits) What's your big plan, blockhead?

Thomas: I intend to discover, this very afternoon, the secret of alchemy – the hidden art of turning base things into gold.

Oliver: I see, and the fact that this secret has eluded the most intelligent people since the dawn of time doesn't dampen your spirits at all.

Thomas: Oh no; I like a challenge! (exits, as Percy pours a drink)

Oliver: Well, Perky, I lost the 85 quid. The grave opens up before me like a ... big hole in the ground.

Percy: (gives the cup to Oliver) Well, I did have one idea, My Lord, but ... nah, it's stupid, you wouldn't... (turns to leave)

Oliver: What is it?

Percy: (turns back) Well, I have heard there's good money to be made down the docks, doing favours for sailors.

Oliver: Favours? What do you mean? Delivering messages, sewing on buttons – that kind of thing?

Percy: Erm, not quite.

Oliver: (starts to stand) Percy!

Percy: My Lord?

Oliver: Are you suggesting that I become a rent boy?

Percy: Well, good-looking bloke like you, posh accent, nice legs - you can make a bomb. Just stick a pink carnation in your hat and, er, make the old sign.

Oliver: I'd rather die.

Percy: Oh, fair enough, that's all right, then. I'll just put the kettle on while we wait, shall I? (turns to leave)

Oliver: (reaches out and grabs Percy's shoulder, turning him round) On second thought, with a slight alteration, your sick and sordid plan might just work.

[at docks, Percy is dressed in Oliver's clothes. His hat has a pink carnation in it, and he holds a sign reading "GET -IT- HERE." He bounces seductively as a burly sailor named Arthur strides up.]

Arthur: Give me a kiss and I'll give you a penny.

Oliver: (comes from round the corner) A penny?!

Arthur: Well, alright then - tuppence!

Oliver: Oh, all right, go on. (disappears behind the corner)

Arthur: Nothing fancy. Just a peck. I miss my mum, you see. When I a little kid, my mother always used to come up-

Oliver: (appears) Look, get a move on! He's a prostitute, not an agony aunt!

Arthur: Go on, please! Just a little peck on the cheek, and say, "There there, Arthur - Mummy'll kiss it better, and you shall have a story."

Oliver: Well, I don't know. Do you do requests, Percy?

Percy: What, kinky stuff? Yeah, I'm game

Arthur: Oh, go on, please! (crying) I miss my mother so much. I mean, she was like a mother to me!

Oliver: Well, alright, go on, Percy. (disappears)

Percy: (starts to reach up to Arthur's cheek, but pauses) I've forgotten what I'm supposed to say.

[Arthur cries]

Oliver: (appears, fed up) Get out of the way; I'll do it. (takes the sign) There there, Arthur (*smooch*). Mummy kiss it better, and you shall have a story.

Arthur: (excited) What kind of a story?

Oliver: Well, I don't know ... one about a squirrel, I suppose.

[some time later]

Oliver: ...and then Squirry the Squirrel went...

Arthur and Percy: (everyone has their arms around each other) ..."Neep neep neep!"...

Oliver: ...and they all went home for tea.

Arthur: Ah, thanks very much, me ol' shivering mateys! That was wonderful. (turns to Oliver) Now then, how much do you charge for a good hard shag?

Oliver: (nervous) A thousand pounds.

Arthur: A thousand pounds? You've got to be joking!

Oliver: Well, I'm sure we could negotiate. (tosses the sign to Percy)

[Arthur smiles at Percy]

[back at Oliver's house]

Oliver: Right, so we've got sixpence.

Percy: Yeah, now all we need to do, My Lord, is to go down the cockfights and put it on a bird that's a dead cert but has got odds of forty thousand to one.

Oliver: Know you of such a bird?

Percy: No. But we could make one.

Oliver: No we couldn't, Percy. Oh god, I suppose you have to be told . Sit down. What happens is: a mummy bird and a daddy bird who love each other very much get certain urges...

Percy: No, no, My Lord. What I mean is: we could get a mad wild killer bull, and disguise it as a bird, but it'll be such a strange-looking bird that no-one will back it, but we'll know it's a killer bull so we'll put money on it.

Oliver: Only we will know.

Percy: Yeah - if we stick enough feathers on it and hang an egg between its legs.

Oliver: Yes, alright, alright, Percy. A chat with you and somehow death loses its sting.

Messenger: (enters) M'Lord, wot wot, Da Queen dost demand yer urget presence on pain of death.

Oliver: You're not making any friends here, you do know that, don't you, messenger!

[Oliver runs up the hall and enters court.]

Oliver: Madam, you sent for me again.

Queen: Yes, Oliver. I wanted to apologise for the silly trick I played on you.

Oliver: Ah.

Queen: It was naughty and bad of me.

Nursie: It was, my little rosebud. If you weren't quite so big, it'd be time for Mr. and Mrs. Spank to pay a short sharp trip to Bottyland.

Queen: Thank you, Nursie. And thank you, Oliver.

Oliver: That's all...

Queen: Yes. Thanks for coming. (extends her hand to him vertically (to shake))

[Oliver quickly turns and opens the doors; court party cracks up as before.]

Queen: That was very funny too, wasn't it?

Oliver: My Lady?

Queen: Dragging you all the way across town again just to say sorry for dragging you all the way across town the first time! (stops laughing) It was Henry's idea. I think it's wonderful, don't you?

Oliver: It's fantastic. Henry, I prostrate myself at the feet of the world's greatest living comedian. (bows)

Queen: Oh, you are super, Oliver. Oh, Oliver, erm, I promised Lord Henry that I would play sharp Halfpenny with him, but we have no coin. Do you have a halfpenny?

Oliver: Unfortunately, only a sixpence, Ma'am. What a shame!

Queen: Oh, no - a sixpence will do just as well. (holds out her hand)

Oliver: Oh, good! (hands it over)

[back home, Oliver enters the hallway, which is full of smoke]

Oliver: Oh god, this place stinks like a pair of armoured trousers after the Hundred Years War! Percy, have you been eating dung again?

Thomas: (rushes out the living room, dirtied) My Lord! Success!

Oliver: What?

Thomas: (drags Oliver into the living room) After literally an hour's ceaseless searching, I have succeeded in creating gold. PURE GOLD!

Oliver: Are you sure?

Thomas: Yes, My Lord! Behold! (uncovers the top; their faces get bathed in green light)

Oliver: Thomas, it's green.

Thomas: That's right, My Lord.

Oliver: Yes, Thomas, I don't want to be pedantic or anything, but the colour of gold is gold - that's why it's called gold. What you have discovered, if it has a name, is some green.

Thomas: (stupefied; picks up the green) Oh, Oliver, can it be true? that I hold here, in my mortal hand, a nugget of purest green?

Oliver: Indeed you do, Thomas, except, of course, it's not only a nugget as it is more of a splat.

Thomas: Well, yes, a splat today, but tomorrow, who knows? or dares to dream!

Oliver: So we three alone in all the world can create the finest green at will.

Thomas: Thus so! (whispers) I'm not sure about counting in Percy, actually.

Oliver: Of course, you know what your great discovery means, don't you, Thomas.

Thomas: (smiles) Perhaps, My Lord.

Oliver: That you, Thomas - Lord Thomas - are an utter berk! Percy!

Percy: My Lord?

Oliver: Pack my bags; I'm going to sell the house.

Percy and Thomas: (shocked) What?

Oliver: There's nothing else for it. I mean, I shall miss the old place, I know. I've had some happy times here, when you and Thomas have been out. But needs must when the Britt vomits into your kettle. Percy, go forth into the streets and let it be known that Lord Oliver wishes to sell his house. Thomas, just go forth into the street.

[Later, Oliver shows his place to a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tram]

Oliver: (coming in) ...and this is the den.

Mrs: (looks around) Ooh, dear.

Oliver: But I have to tell you, Mr. Tram, that I've had an extremely encouraging nibble from another client, and I think you know me well enough to know that I'm not the sort of man to ignore a nibble for long.

Mrs: I noticed some dry rot in the bedrooms, Timothy.

Oliver: Well, Mrs. Tram, dry rot is what dry rot does. (to Mr. Tram) Stop me if I'm getting too technical.

[Mr. Tram starts to speak, but is interrupted.]

Mrs: And the floor is a little uneven.

Oliver: Indeed yes, Madam, and at no extra cost!

Mrs: Strange smell.

Oliver: Yes, that's the servant; he'll be gone.

Mr: You've really worked out your banter, haven't you?

Oliver: No, not really. This is a different thing. It's spontaneous and it's called 'wit'.

Mrs: What about the privies?

Oliver: When the master craftsman who created this home was looking at the sewage, he said to himself, "Romeo," - for 'twas his name - "Romeo, let's make them functional, and comfortable."

Mr: Oh, well, that seems nice, doesn't it, Dear!

Oliver: I think we understand each other, sir. So it's sold, then. (goes to a pot and pours into a cup) Drink?

Mrs: (insistent for a real answer) What about the privies?

Oliver: (doesn't give away either of the two cups he holds) Well, what we're talking about in, erm, privy terms is the very latest in front-wall, fresh-air orifices, combined with a wide-capacity gutter installation below.

Mrs: You mean you crap out of the window.

Oliver: Yes!

Mrs: Well! In that case, we'll *definitely* take it! (takes a cup from Oliver) I can't stand those dirty indoor things.

[later, Oliver counts the money]

Oliver: There, that's the lot. He only wanted to pay a thousand, but I managed to beat him up to eleven hundred.

Thomas: Oh, Oliver, you wily old trickster, you!

Oliver: Oh, credit where credit's due - I just named the price; it was Percy who actually beat him up.

[Thomas nods]

Oliver: Thomas, what is that on the front of your tunic?

Thomas: Ah! 'tis a brooch, My Lord - a brooch cunningly fashioned from pure green.

Oliver: It looks like you've sneezed.

Thomas: It is with trinkets such as this brooch, and here, a ring, that I intend to revive your fortunes and buy back your house!

Oliver: You think there's a big market for jewelry that looks like snot, then?

Thomas: (upset) My Lord!

Oliver: The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr. Brain has long since departed, hasn't he, Tommy.

Messenger: (enters) My Lord-

Oliver: Ah, messenger, thank God you came. Thomas and I could not have waited another second without you.

[Oliver sprints up the hall and enters court, where the trio is hunched over a war map]

Oliver: Majesty!

Queen: Thank God you've arrived - terrible news!

Oliver: What?

Henry: The Scots intend to invade for eighty second time, Oliver.

Oliver: My god!

Queen: So I need some money.

[Oliver, fearing the worst, falls down into the throne]

Henry: Yes, every nobleman must pay 500 pounds towards the upkeep of the navies.

Queen: But we've decided to make you a special case.

Oliver: (sitting up a bit) Oh, thank you, Ma'am!

Queen: Heny here hasn't got a bean, so we thought, as you're so fabulously wealthy, you could pay for both!

Henry: It would be awfully sweet of you.

Oliver: Yes, well, unfortunately, Ma'am, I'm in the middle of a cash-flow crisis and I just haven't got any money on me!

Queen: (looking down at him) But, Oliver...

Oliver: (realises that he's in the throne, expecting that this is what she is addressing him about) Sorry. (stands and moves across to his proper place)

Queen: ...what's that in your tights? (points her figurine-moving stick at his groin)

Oliver: Oh, good lord. (he takes out a pouch)

Queen: It looks like ... just over a thousand pounds!

Oliver: So it is.

Queen: I thought you said you didn't have any.

Oliver: Oh, I thought you meant *real* money. This is just a bit of loose change. I must have left it in my codpiece when I sent these tights the laundry.

Queen: Gosh, a thousand pounds just loose in your tights... That *is* flash! OK, hand it over. (he does) Thanks. 'bye. (turns back to the map, making whistles and 'boom' noises as she plays with the figurines)

Oliver: Well, goodbye indeed. (backs out of the room slowly) 'bye, Ma'am. Goodbye, Henry. Goodbye, Nursie. Byeee... (shuts the doors)

[Henry peeks between doors to make sure he's gone; all crack up once more; Henry falls to the floor; Nursie claps her hands; Queen falls onto Henry; Nursie goes to her knees]

Queen: Silly old Oliver! He was completely fooled! That was a brilliant joke, Heny!

Henry: Brilliant, Ma'am!

Queen: (serious suddenly) And now I'm going to have you executed. (stands)

Henry: (stammering) Majesty?

Queen: It's for taking the mickey out of my beloved Oliver so cruelly. I'm gonna knock your block off.

Henry: (begging) But, Majesty, I only intended to please! Oh, please! I so want to live!

[Queen slowly breaks into laughter]

Nursie: Ooh! (slaps Queen's hand)

Henry: Ah! (laughs forcedly)

[Nursie falls over; Queen falls onto her]

Henry: (still faking a laugh, but obviously rather frightened and angry) Praise the Lord for the gift of laughter!

[Oliver rushes into his living room]

Oliver: Right, Perc, I've lost the money. I'm going to have to run away.

Percy: Why, My Lord?

Oliver: To avoid these monks, of course!

Percy: No point - the White Bank's got branches everywhere.

Oliver: Oh damn! (falls to the floor) If I die, Percy, do you think people would remember me?

Percy: (stepping over Oliver as he continues packing) Yeah, of course they would.

Oliver: Yes, I suppose so.

Percy: Yeah. People would always be slapping each other on the shoulders and laughing, and saying "Do you remember old Snowman?"

Oliver: Do people call me 'Snowman'?

Percy: Yeah, the ones who like you.

Oliver: Am I then not popular?

Percy: Erm, well, put it this way: when people slip in what dogs have left in the street, they do tend to say "Whoops, I've trod on an Oliver."

Oliver: (stands) Bloody cheek! I'll show them.

Percy: What, have you got a plan, My Lord?

Oliver: Yes I have, and it's so cunning you could brush your teeth with it! All I need is some feathers, a dress, some oil, an easel, some sleeping draught, lots of paper, a prostitute and the best portrait painter in Sodor.

Percy: I'll get them right away, My Lord! (rushes out)

[later, enter Percy and painter]

Percy: My Lord, the most famous painter in Sodor: Mr. Hanknardo Pennsylvania.

Oliver: Right, are you any good?

Hank: (turns away, speaks in silly American accent) No! I am ... a genius!

Oliver: Well, you'd better be, or you're dead!

[Hank sticks out his tongue; there's pounding on the front door]

Oliver: Right, in the bedroom, Colonial turkey. Percy, get the door.

Percy: My Lord.

[Percy and Hank leave; Oliver shuts the door behind them and then sits down, puts his feet up, and begins reading a book. Percy flies through the door, again quite literally, and lies on the floor with the shrapnel.]

Percy: My Lord, the Bishop of Norramby and Culdee.

Bishop: (enters) The time has come, Oliver!

Oliver: Oh, hello, Bish.

Bishop: The White Monks will have their money, or I will have my fun.

Oliver: You enjoy your work, don't you?

Bishop: Bits of it, yeah.

Oliver: The violent bits.

Bishop: Yes. (begins massaging Oliver's shoulders) You see, I am a colossal pervert. No form of sexual depravity is too low for me. Animal, vegetable or mineral - I'll do anything to anything.

Oliver: Fine words for a Bishop. It's nice to hear the Church speaking out for a change on social issues.

Bishop: Have you got the money?

Oliver: Nope.

Bishop: Good. I hate it when people pay up. Say your prayers, Oliver. (holds out the hot poker) IT'S POKER TIME!

Oliver: Fine. (closes the book and sets it down, then stands) Are you ever concerned that people might find you out?

Bishop: No. No, no, I kill, I maim, I fornicate, but as far as my flock is concerned my only vice is a little tibble before Evensong. (Percy hands him a drink) Oh, thank you. (drinks) BEND OVER, Oliver!

[Oliver complies]

Bishop: THIS IS WHERE YOU GET- (staggers backward, choking) DRUGGED BY GOD!

Oliver: No, by Percy the fattest and stupidest man on Sodor, actually, but the effect is much the same.

[in bedroom; Oliver pulls open a curtain, behind which Bishop lies in bed]

Oliver: Wakey, wakey, Bish. Dear me, you clerics really are sluggerbeds.

Bishop: (groggy) Where am I? I remember...drugged...

Oliver: That's right.

Bishop: You should have killed me while you had the chance. (sits up) You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Oliver!

Oliver: Well, I'm not sure about that. I did wonder, though, what people who saw this might think.

[Percy stands nearby, holding a portrait]

Bishop: Heavens above, what creatures from Hit are those?

Oliver: They make an interesting couple, don't they? I think you probably recognise this huge, sweating mound of blubber here, eh, Fatso?

[Bishop charges toward the portrait, but Oliver pushes him back to the bed]

Oliver: There's no point, anyway; we have the preliminary sketches. We'll soon bang off a couple of copies. Let's see, one for the Queen, one for the Archbishop, a couple kept aside, perhaps, to form the basis of an exciting exhibition of a challenging young artist's work.

Bishop: By the cameras of Producers, how did you get me into that position?

Oliver: It's beautifully framed, don't you think? which is ironic, really, because that's exactly what's happened to you.

Bishop: You fiend! Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church?

Oliver: No, I could never get used to the underwear.

[Bishop nods in apprehension]

Oliver: What I could use, though, is, let's say eleven hundred pounds to buy back my house, four thousand pounds to cover some sundry expenses, ten shillings for the two doors, and let's say fifty pence for a celebratory slapper binge at Mrs. Miggins' pie shop... (last bit said to Percy)

[Percy smiles and nods]

Bishop: Yes, yes, but first, one question: Who is this second figure? Who could you have got to have performed such deeds, to have gone lower than man has ever gone, to have plunged the depths of degradation just in order to save your filthy life?!

[From beneath the covers, Thomas wakes and sits up. He is dressed in red leather with chains and assorted items.]

Oliver: Ah, Thomas, may I introduce His Grace, the Bishop of Norramby and Culdee. Your Grace, Lord Thomas Thomas Blueadder, Heir to the Duchy of Ffarquar

Thomas: (speaks weakly) Hello. (shakes Bishop's hand) It was lovely working with you.

[The bard dances down the path. Oliver walks a short distance behind, and puts his hands on his hips as he looks back at the camera. Oliver then walks again toward the bard, who then continues moving down the path. Oliver motions for him to stop, but he doesn't. Oliver begins to trot as the bard dances around to behind the fountain. Oliver begins to jog as the bard dances down the path further. Oliver runs, but the bard still eludes him as he half dances, half runs down the path, into the distance.]

Take heed the moral of this tale  
Be not a borrower or lender  
And if your finances do fail  
Make sure your banker's not a bender  
Oliver, Oliver  
He trusted in the Church  
Oliver, Oliver  
It left him in the lurch  
Oliver, Oliver  
His life was almost done  
Oliver, Oliver  
Who gives a toss? No-one.

d

**Please review!**


	5. Beer

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Sorry for any of those felt insulted because it is a parody that dose not make no sense at all!

**Episode Five**  
**Beer**

**Guest Starring**

Duncan the Rock'n'Roll Engine as Sir Duncan Here's-To-The-Health-Of-Cardinal-Rock Roller  
Fearless Freddy as Freddie Psycho.  
Culdee the Mountain Engine as Culdee, the Flatulent Hermit of Machan  
Mallard as Mr. Great Eastern  
Claud Hamilton as Mrs. Great Eastern

[Oliver's house. Lords Thomas and Oliver are eating breakfast.]

Thomas: I must say, Oliver, it was jolly nice of you to ask me to share your breakfast before the rigours of the day begin.

Oliver: Well, it is said, Thomas, that civilised man seeks out good and intelligent company, so that, through learned discourse, he may rise above the savage and closer to God.

Thomas: Yes, I've heard that.

Oliver: Personally, however, I like to start the day with a total dickhead to remind me I'm best.

Thomas: Beshrew me, Oliver! You're in good fooling this morning.

Oliver: Don't say 'beshrew me', Thomas - only stupid actors say 'beshrew me'.

Thomas: Oh, how I would love to be an actor! I had a great talent for it in my youth - I was the man of a thousand faces.

Oliver: How'd you come to choose the ugly mug you've got now, then?

[He begins reading a note.]

Thomas: Hah hah! Tush, My Lord.

Oliver: ...and don't say 'tush', either! It's only a short step from 'tush' to 'hey nonny nonny'; and then, I'm afraid, I'll shall have to call the police. [Looks at the note once more.] Well! God pats me on the head and says, "Good boy, Oliver!"

Thomas: My Lord...?

Oliver: My aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Great Eastern, the two most fanatical puritans in Sodor, have invited themselves to dinner here tonight.

Thomas: But aren't they the most frightful bores?

Oliver: Yep, but they have one great redeeming feature - their wallets. More capacious than an elephant's scrotum, and just as difficult to get your hands on...at least until now, for, tonight, they wish to discuss my inheritance. [runs his fingers through his hair]

Thomas: [stands quickly] Hey nonny nonny, My Lord! Good news!

[he holds out a hand as though expecting Oliver to shake it]

Oliver: [calls] Percy!

[Percy enters, wearing an apparatus on his head which is dangling a piece of cheese from the end of his nose. Oliver begins to speak about something, then notices.]

Oliver: [calmly] Why have you got a piece of cheese tied to the end of your nose?

Percy: To catch mice, My Lord. I lie on the floor with my mouth open and hope they scurry in.

Oliver: ...and do they?

Percy: Not yet, My Lord.

Oliver: Well, I'm not surprised - your breath comes straight from Britt's bottom, Percy. The only sort of mouse you're going to catch is one without a nose.

Percy: That's a pity, because the nose is the best bit on a mouse.

Oliver: Any bit of a mouse would seem like luxury compared to what Thomas and I must eat tonight. We are entertaining puritan vegetable folk, Percs; and that means no meat.

Percy: In that case, I shall prepare my Potato Surprise.

Oliver: and the surprise is...?

Percy: ...there's nothing else in it except the potato.

Oliver: So, in other words, the Potato Surprise would be...a potato.

Percy: [realisation] Oh yeah...

[There is a knock at the door.]

Oliver: Get the door, Percy, get the door...

[Percy leaves.]

Thomas: Well, now, if things go as planned tonight, it seems congratulations are in order...

[he holds out a hand as though expecting Oliver to shake it]

Oliver: Nice try, Thomas, but forget it - you're not getting a penny.

[he goes to sit in the chair at the doorway to the room]

[A tremendous noise of wood being bent and broken fills the room. Percy enters, carrying a door.]

Oliver: [looks at what Percy is carrying; is not surprised; speaks calmly] Percy, I would advise you to make the explanation you are about to give phenomenally good.

Percy: You said, "Get the door."

Oliver: Not good enough. You're fired.

Percy: But, My Lord, I've been in your family since 1532!

Oliver: So has syphilis. Now get out.

Percy: [obscured by laughter], My Lord. [starts to leave but returns] Oh, by the way: there was a messenger outside when I got the door. He says the Queen wants to see you; Lord Henry is very sick.

Oliver: [stands up excited] Really...!

Percy: Yeah - he's at Death's door.

Oliver: Well, my faithful old reinstated family retainer, let's go and open it for him, then!

[Scene changes to a large room. Henry is lying on a bed with a hand on his head. Queen Emily is fanning his face with her hand. Nursie pushes on Henry's stomach. Oliver enters.]

Queen: Oliver! Quick! Quick! Henry's dying! We must do something!

Oliver: Well, yes, of course... er, some sort of celebration... But let's wait until he's actually snuffed it, shall we?

Queen: Nursie's old methods don't seem to be working...

Nursie: Come on, little tummy...

Queen: [goes across the room, to speak privately with Oliver] It all started last night at about two o'clock. I was tucked into bed having this absolutely scrummy dream about ponies when I was wakened by a terrific banging from Lord Henry.

Oliver: [grins at the double entendre] Well! I never knew he had it in him.

Queen: It's true, I promise! He was banging on the castle gate, falling over, and singing a strange song about a girl who possessed something called a...dicky-di-do?

Oliver: Oh, yes, it's a lovely old hymn, isn't it... [returns to the bed] Well, Ma'am, I think I know what's wrong with Lord Henry, and, unfortunately, it isn't fatal.

Queen: Well, hurry up and cure the horrible man - I'm fed up with him lying there moaning and groaning...

Nursie: ...and letting off such great and fruitsome flappy woof-woofs! One can scarcely...one can't believe one's tiny nosy!

Oliver: The truth is: Lord Henry just can't take his ale.

Henry: [sitting up] Madam, I protest! I may be a little delicate this morning, but what I drank last night would have floored a rhino!

Oliver: ...if it was allergic to lemonade...

Henry: It's Oliver here who can't take his ale - he's famous for it!

Oliver: Oh yeah?

Henry: Yeah!

Oliver: Yeah?

Henry: Yeah!

Queen: Oh, this is so exciting - the boys are getting tough!

Henry: Well, I'm sure we all remember the shame and embarrassment of the visit of King Sharpe of England when Oliver was found wandering naked among the corridors of Hampton Court singing, "I'm Merlin, The Happy Pig!"

Oliver: So, what did you have last night, then? a whole half-pint of potato juice?

Henry: On the contrary! I had two flagons of claret and a double helping of curried turtle! I can assure you: it's no holds barred with us at the annual communion-wine tasting.

Oliver: Annual! Hah! For me and the wild boys, every night is drinking night!

Henry: Says who?

Oliver: Says me!

Henry: Says you?

Oliver: Yeah!

Henry: [expecting that Oliver is bragging] eeaaaahh...

Oliver: You ought to come around sometime and have a look at the underside of my table!

Henry: Bah...

Queen: ...tonight!

Henry: [suddenly in his senses, speaks feebly] Er, tonight?

Oliver: [not in his senses] Yeah! Come on, Heny - what are you scared of?

Queen: Perhaps you're right. [in a child's taunt] Perhaps he's a pussy.

Henry: Oh, all right then - tonight. I'll be there.

Queen: Hurray. and last one under the table gets...ten thousand florins from the loser.

Oliver: [shocked] Ma'am...? Er... right... Well, I'll get the beer in, then. [bows, puts a thumb to his nose and wiggles his fingers at Henry. Leaves]

Queen: [Stands at the door] Nursie...

Nursie: Hmm? [goes to speak privately with Queen]

Queen: [whispering] Do you know what I'm going to do?

Nursie: What?

Queen: I'm going to go along and find out exactly what happens at these boys' nights.

Nursie: Good idea, poppet.

Queen: ...and I'll wear a cloak with a cowl, so no-one will recognise me.

Nursie: Oh, that's another good idea. You're so clever today, you better be careful your foot doesn't fall off.

Queen: Does that happen when you have lots of brilliant ideas? Your foot falls off?

Nursie: It certainly does. My brother, he had this brilliant idea of cutting his toenails with a scythe, and his foot fell off...

[Scene changes to Oliver's house. Thomas has quill in hand, taking notes for Oliver, who paces the room.]

Oliver: Right, now; the sort of person we're looking for is an aggressive drunken lout with the intelligence of a four year old and the sexual sophistication of a donkey.

Thomas: [thinks] Cardinal Woolsey... [writes]

Oliver: [calls] Percy!

[Percy enters, but his apparatus is dangling a mouse this time.]

Percy: My Lord...?

Oliver: Why?

Percy: I got fed up with the all-mouse diet, My Lord. I thought I'd try cat for variety.

Oliver: Good. Well done. and now, returning to the real world: Do you have a knife?

Percy: Yeah.

Oliver: Good, because I wish to quickly send off some party invitations, and, to make them look particularly tough, I wish to write them in blood - your blood, to be precise.

Percy: So, how much blood will you actually be requiring, My Lord?

Oliver: Oh, nothing much - just a small puddle.

Percy: Will you want me to cut anything off? an arm or a leg, for instance?

Oliver: Oh, good lord, no - a little prick should do.

Percy: Very well, My Lord; I am your bondsman and must obey. [sticks his knife down his trousers and begins sawing]

Oliver: For God's sake, Percy! I meant a little prick on your finger!

Percy: [nearly crying] I haven't got one there!

Oliver: Forget it, forget it... [motions for Percy to leave]

Percy: Thank you, My Lord. [leaves]

Oliver: Right, now; Tommy... How's this list going?

Thomas: Oh, very well indeed. I thought we could invite my girlfriend, Gwendoline...

Oliver: Sorry - no chicks. Who else?

Thomas: Well, that's about as far as I'd got, actually.

Oliver: Right. I'll dictate. First: Freddie Psycho.

Thomas: Oh, not Freddie Psycho, also known as Mr Psycho...!

Oliver: Even he...

Thomas: But he's a fearful oik!

Oliver: Takes one to know one, Tommy. Secondly: Sir Duncan.

Thomas: Here's-To-The-Health-Of-Cardinal-Duncan?

Oliver: The very same... and, thirdly: Culdee, the Flatulent Hermit of Machan.

Thomas: [holds his nose] Oh, paugh paugh!

Oliver: Right. That should do the trick.

Thomas: Oh! and, of course, Lord and Lady Great Eastern, who'll be coming anyway...

Oliver: Oh y- ...oh, no...

[Scene changes to the throne room. Queen is on the throne, Nursie is in her normal chair to the left (she is knitting), and Oliver is kneeled on one knee before Queen.]

Queen: I must say, Oliver, it does look a teeny bit like trying to get out of it.

Oliver: [frantic] Quite the wrong impression, Ma'am. I just want to make it another night, that's all.

Nursie: Certainly not!

Queen: I beg your pardon...?

Nursie: Well, it's just one excuse after another, isn't it? Next thing, he'll be trying to get out of having his bath altogether.

[Oliver is quite confused.]

Queen: He isn't talking about baths, Nursie.

Nursie: Well, he should be! How else is he going to keep clean? Soon he'll be saying he doesn't want his nappy changed!

Queen: Lord Oliver doesn't wear a nappy.

Nursie: Well, in that case, it's even more important that he has a bath!

Queen: [tired of the interruptions] Oh, shut up, Nursie. [to Oliver] I know why you want to get out of it, because I remember the last time you had a party - I found you face-down in a puddle, wearing a pointy hat and singing a song about goblins.

Oliver: [stands] Yes, all right! All right! Tonight it is.

Queen: [smiles, a bit turned on] Oh, Oliver... I do love it when you get cross. Sometimes I think about having you executed just to see the expression on your face.

[Oliver grins uneasily.]

[Scene changes to the room in Oliver's house to the right after entering through the main door. Oliver, Percy and Thomas enter. no longer wears his apparatus.]

Oliver: Right, now; let's make sure you've got this. We are having two parties here tonight...

Percy: Right.

Thomas: Right.

Oliver: ...and they must be kept completely separate.

Percy & Thomas: Right.

Oliver: Firstly, a total piss-up - involving beer throwing, broken furniture and wall-to-wall vomiting - to be held here in Percy's bedroom.

Percy: Oh, thank you very much, My Lord! [Thomas pats him on the shoulder in congratulations]

[Oliver goes to the main living room of the house (where the previous house scenes have taken place).]

Oliver: Secondly, Thomas will join me in here for the gourmet potato eating. Is the Potato Surprise ready?

[Percy and Thomas begin giggling.]

Percy: Yes, it is, My Lord.

Oliver: Then what is so funny?

Thomas: Well, My Lord, while Percy and I were preparing the Potato Surprise, we had a surprise - we came across a potato that was exactly the same shape...as a thingy!

[Thomas and Percy laugh.]

Oliver: [not amused] ...a thingy...

Percy: ...a great big thingy! It was terrific.

Oliver: Size is no guarantee of quality, Percy. Most horses are very well endowed, but that does not necessarily make them sensitive lovers. I trust you have removed this hilarious item...?

Percy: Oh, yes, yes, My Lord.

Oliver: Good, because there's nothing more likely to stop an inheritance than a thingy-shaped potato.

Thomas: Absolutely, Oliver. ...but it was jolly funny! [laughs more]

Oliver: Yes, yes, yes...

Percy: I found it particularly ironic, My Lord, because I've got a thingy that's shaped like a potato!

Oliver: Yes, all right...

Percy: I'm quite well at parties...

Oliver: [not interested] are you...

Percy: Yeah - I hide in the vegetable rack and frighten the children.

Oliver: What fun... Perhaps you've forgotten that I'm meant to be having a drinking competition here tonight with Lord Henry, and ten thousand florins are at stake!

Percy: Oh dear...

Oliver: What do you mean?

Percy: Well, firstly: you haven't got ten thousand florins; and, thirdly: one drop of the ale and you fall flat on your face and start singing that song about the goblin.

Oliver: That's nonsense. ... ... ... but just in case it's true-

Percy: [to Thomas] It is true - I saw it!

Oliver: Yes, all right, all right, it's true, it's true...So, the plan is: When I call for my Incredibly Strong Ale, you must pass me water in an ale bottle. Have you got that?

Percy: Yeah - when you call for ale, I pass water.

Oliver: Thomas, your job is to stay here and suck up to my aunt.

Thomas: [tries to act suave] Ah, I think you can trust me to know how to handle a woman.

Oliver: Oh god...

[There is a knock at the door.]

Oliver: Right, here goes...

[Oliver goes to the front door. Percy brushes Oliver's clothing for a moment.]

Oliver: [motioning for Percy to stop] It's all right...

[Percy opens the closet door and tosses the brush in. Oliver opens the front door. Aunt and Uncle's clothing is all white, with a large cross around the neck, a cross sticking out of each shoulder, and a white helmet with a cross sticking out the top.]

Oliver: Uncle! Aunt! Greetings! How nice it is to see you.

[He leans over and kisses Aunt on each cheek.]

Aunt: [slaps Oliver twice] Wicked child! Don't lie! Everyone hates us, and you know it!

Oliver: Oh yes. Er, may I introduce my friend Lord Thomas...?

Thomas: [suave] Well well well, Ollie! You didn't tell me you had such a good-looking aunt!

[Oliver waves at him to shut up. Aunt is shocked.]

Thomas: Good morrow to thee, gorgeousness! I know what I like, and I like what I see!

Aunt: [slaps Thomas] Be gone, Britt! [heads to the main room]

Oliver: Er, yes, well, well, I hope you had a pleasant inheritance... Did I say 'inheritance'? I meant 'journey'. [motions around the table] If you'd just like to help yourself to a legacy - er, a chair...

Aunt: 'Chair'? You have chairs in your house?

Oliver: Oh, yes.

Aunt: [slaps him twice] Wicked child! Chairs are an invention of Britt! In our house, Mallard sits on a spike!

Oliver: ...and yourself...?

Aunt: I sit on Mallard - two spikes would be an extravagance.

Oliver: Well, quite.

Aunt: I will suffer comfort this once - we shall just have to stick forks in our legs between courses. [sits] I trust you remember we eat no meat...? [Uncle, off-camera, has sat too.]

Oliver: Heaven forbid, no! [Goes to sit at the end of the table; Thomas sits at the other end] Here, we feast only of God's lovely potato - mashed.

Aunt: [stands suddenly] Mashed?!

Oliver: Yes...

Aunt: [slaps him twice] Wicked child! Mashing is also the work of producer - for Britt saw God's blessed potato, and he envied it and mashed it to spoil its sacred shape.

Oliver: Ah.

Aunt: I shall have my potato as God intended. [sits]

Oliver: Fine. [calls] Percy!

[Percy enters.]

Percy: My Lord...?

Oliver: Will you fetch my dear aunt a raw potato, please?

Percy: Well, we've only got the one that-

Oliver: [Interrupts, wanting to show authority in front of his servant to Aunt and Uncle] Just do it, thank you.

[Percy leaves.]

Oliver: [to Uncle] So, Uncle, will you have your potato mashed, or as God intended?

Aunt: He will not answer you; he has taken a vow of silence. [Uncle looks quite unhappy] I believe that silence is golden.

[Oliver begins to say something like "Oh, I see" but decides it's better to be golden. Aunt gives him an approving look.]

[Pause]

[Oliver, still not wanting to speak, but also wanting to get to the topic he wants to talk about, clears his throat, making the word 'inheritance' as he does so.]

[There is a noisy knock on the front door.]

Aunt: Oliver! I trust you have invited no other guests...?

Oliver: Oh, certainly not!

Aunt: Good - for where there are other guests there are people to fornicate with!

Oliver: Well, quite.

[More knocking on the front door.]

Oliver: I'll just go and tell them to fornicate off. [motions over to Thomas] Lord Thomas... [leaves]

Thomas: Erm, er, yes, er, well, Lord Great Eastern, er, a vow of silence... Now, that's quite an interesting thing... Tell me about it.

[In the hall, Oliver leaves his bedroom wearing a pair of false breasts over his clothing, then goes to the front door and opens it. Duncan, Freddy (holding an ostrich feather) and Culdee enter, also wearing false buffers over their clothing. Duncan wears a hat with a chicken on it; Freddy wears a hat with a model of a ship on it, and Culdee wears a hat with bells. They sing.]

"Happy Birthday to you!  
Happy Birthday to you!  
Happy Birthday, Oli-baby!  
Happy Birthday to you!"

[In the main room, Aunt can hear, and doesn't know what to make of it; Thomas is unable to think of an explanation.]

Oliver: [loudly so Aunt can hear] But it's not my birthday, Arch Deacon!

[In the main room, Aunt nods and smiles. Thomas is relieved.]

[Oliver leads the group into Percy's bedroom.]

Oliver: Well, well, get stuck in, boys.

Freddy: 'Stuck in'! Way-hey! Get it?

Duncan: No... [Culdee doesn't, either]

Freddy: Well, it sounds a bit rude, doesn't it! 'Stuck in'!

[The boozers laugh, as there's a knock at the front door.]

Oliver: Er, sorry - back in a tick. [leaves]

Freddy: Way-hey! 'Tick', eh, lads? Now; that sounds a bit rude, doesn't it... That sounds a bit like 'bum'.

[They laugh.]

[Oliver, in the hallway, opens the front door. Henry enters.]

Oliver: Ah, Henry - late, I see, to avoid the early drinking. Oh, Heny, you really are a beginner - you're not even wearing a pair of comedy buffers!

Henry: [opens his coat to reveal gold false buffers] Au contraire, Oliver...

Oliver: Yes, well, well, let's wait until we get down to the really serious drinking, shall we?

Henry: [has moved to the door of the main room] In here?

Oliver: Er, no, no, it's this way. [shows Henry to Percy's bedroom] Here we are.

[As they enter, the three boozers are bent over, shaking their backsides and saying "Whoa!" rising in pitch.]

Henry: Good evening, er...

Oliver: Lads, this is Lord Henry.

[They cheer.]

Oliver: Er, give him a large one, will you?

Freddy: 'Large one'! Way-hey! Get it?

Culdee: No...

Freddy: Yes you do! 'Large one'! Sounds a bit rude!

Culdee: Oh yes! 'Large one'!

[The boozers laugh.]

Oliver: You may find the conversation a bit above your head at first, Heny, but you'll soon get used to it. Well, er, [taking a mug and raising it] down the hatch!

[The boozers cheer, as Oliver leaves and tosses the drink in the closet. He goes to the door of the main room, about to remove the breasts, when there is a rhythmic knock on the door. In the main room, Thomas knocks an answering rhythm on the table. Oliver opens the front door. Queen is wrapped in a cowled cloak, and tries to disguise her voice.]

Queen: I heard there was a party on.

Oliver: [not knowing who it is] No. Yes, there are two, and you are invited to neither. [begins to close the door, but Queen speaks]

Queen: I'm a friend of Lord Thomas.

Oliver: Oh, you must be Gwendoline! You were invited anyway. Come in, do.

Queen: Thank you very much. [enters]

Oliver: It's in here... [opens the closet door, pushes Queen in, closes the closet door and locks it]

[Oliver enters the main room again at last, but has forgotten about his false buffers.]

Oliver: I'm sorry about that. [obscured by laughter] [sits]

Thomas: [with his hand over his mouth, tries to warn Oliver] agh... agh...aaagh!

Oliver: [to Uncle] Sorry, he's sick - leprosy...of the brain.

Aunt: That, or what he is trying to tell you is that you appear to be wearing a pair of devil's dumplings!

Oliver: [looks down at the breasts, double-takes] Oh my god - my earmuffs have fallen down! [puts the breasts over his head so they cover his ears] It's getting, er, would you like a pair? It is getting rather cold...

Aunt: No thank you! Cold is God's way of telling us to burn more Protestant!

Oliver: Well, quite - which reminds me, Aunty-

Aunt: [stands up] Don't call me 'Aunty'! [slaps him twice] 'Aunt' is a relative, and relatives are evidence of sex, and sex is hardly a fitting subject for the dinner table. [sits]

Oliver: ...or, indeed, any table.

Thomas: ...except, perhaps, a table in a brothel.

Oliver: [kicks Thomas off his chair] Oh dear, Thomas, it seems you have fallen off your chair.

[Percy enters, carrying a plate on which sits the thingy-shaped potato]

Oliver: Now then, what was I saying? [sees the potato and speaks without a pause] Oh my god...

Percy: [to Aunt] Your potato, My Lady...

Aunt: [picks up the potato, holds it in front of her, her eyes wide] Very good! Very good! [bites into it, then points it at Uncle, and speaks to him] You know, Mallard, it takes me right back to our wedding night.

[Uncle's eyes open wide, in surprise. Percy has left.]

Aunt: [to Oliver] We had raw potatoes that night.

[Drunken cheering is heard.]

Aunt: What was that?

Oliver: What was what?

Aunt: That noise.

Oliver: Noise? [turns his head and lifts a fist off an ear] Did you hear a noise, Thomas?

Thomas: No...

Oliver: Good.

Thomas: ...apart from that colossal drunken roar.

Oliver: [kicks Thomas off his chair] Oh, that noise - it's the Protestant next door, I'm afraid.

Aunt: [stands angrily, makes a very disapproving noise]

Oliver: Er, but, I'll, I'll just go and burn them. Back in a minute. [stands] Thomas... [leaves]

[In the hall, Percy replaces Oliver's false fist, and fits a false nose to Oliver's forehead, then dusts him off a bit. As Oliver goes down the hall, he hears pounding from inside the closet. He opens the closet door.]

Oliver: Yes?

Queen: I'm suffocating!

Oliver: [still not knowing who it is] Well, thank God you knocked. [takes her out of the closet] Come on, now, now, take a deep breath. [she does] ...and another... [she does] Better?

Queen: Yes.

Oliver: Good. [pushes her back into the closet, and closes the door again]

[Back in the main room, Thomas still tries to be good company.]

Thomas: Mind you, I'll say one thing for Protestant: they do have natural rhythm! [Aunt leans toward him menacingly; he leans away]

[In Percy's bedroom, Oliver has returned; they're all wearing false noses on their foreheads now, although Freddy's is coming out the side of his head.]

Henry: I notice you're not drinking, Oliver...

Oliver: Oh, don't you worry about me, Henny - I'm holding my own here.

Freddy: Way-hey! 'Holding my own'! Now, that sounds incredibly rude!

[The boozers laugh.]

Oliver: Yes, well, I never went to university, of course.

Henry: [standing] Er, Oliver, it doesn't explain why you're not drinking with us.

Oliver: Ah yes, no, that's what I actually came to talk to you about, you see. What do you say about the idea of ten minutes absolute silence to get some really serious drinking in?

[The boozers cheer, then realise that that's noisy, so they all go 'shh!' rather messily.]

Oliver: Yes... I said, "Please give me silence" - not "drench me with dribble."

Henry: [hands Oliver a silver goblet] Well, now, here's a nice glass of cider.

Oliver: Oh, only cider? I'm going to go and put some brandy in it!

[The boozers cheer and go 'shh!' again, as Oliver leaves.]

[Oliver enters the hallway, briefly opens the closet door and tosses the cider in. Queen shrieks upon getting wet. Oliver removes his false nose and breasts, heading for the main room. In Percy's bedroom, meanwhile, the boozers and Henry are sitting down like in a rowboat. A barrel of something bursts open. Oliver enters the main room once again.]

Oliver: So, how are we all going, then?

Aunt: Not well. Let us discuss your inheritance.

Oliver: [has sat] Ah, yes, good. Erm, a little drink, first?

Aunt: [stands] Drink?! [slaps him twice] Wicked child! Drink is urine for the last leper in Hit!

Oliver: Oh, no, no - this is only water. This is a house of simple purity.

[Duncan enters, buffers and all, in convulsions. He rushes to the fireplace and vomits, then turns and begins to leave.]

Duncan: Great booze-up, Oliver! [farts, leaves]

[pause]

Aunt: Do you know that man?

Oliver: [looks behind himself as though he didn't really see] No...

Aunt: He called you 'Oliver'...

Oliver: Oh, know him...oh, yes, I do.

Aunt: Then can you explain what he meant by 'great booze-up'?

Oliver: [thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks]  
Yes, I can... My friend...is...a missionary...and...on his last visit abroad...brought back with him...the chief of a famous tribe... His name is Great Bu... He's been suffering from sleeping sickness...and he has obviously just woken...because, as you heard, "Great Bu's up"...

Thomas: [almost passing out from holding his breath] Well done, Oliver...

Oliver: ...and I think I'd better just go and visit him... [stands] Tommy, over to you... [leaves]

Thomas: Yes... How about some sort of game? Er, how about a couple of frames of Shove-Piggy-Shove? [he gets frightened at Aunt's reaction, which is not seen on camera]

[Oliver re-enters Percy's bedroom. Culdee has a cardinal's hat in his hand (for the aforementioned Cardinal Chunder routine).]

Henry: [climbing off the floor] Oliver! You challenged me to a drinking competition earlier today, and I haven't seen you touch a drop!

Oliver: Nonsense!

Henry: It's true! You, you twist and turn like a...twisty turny thing. I say you're a weedy pigeon, and you can call me 'Susan' if it isn't so.

Oliver: Fine, all right. [opens the door, calls out] Percy, fetch my Incredibly Strong Ale...!

Duncan: Good god! Not Dr McGloo's Amber Enema...?

Oliver: Pah! - a drink for schoolgirls...

Freddy: Surely not Strollop's Lobster Scrumpy...?

Oliver: No - it is Oliver's Bowel Basher!

[Percy enters with a pitcher and glass.]

Oliver: ...a brew guaranteed to knock the backside off a concrete elephant! ...is it not, Percy?

Percy: Nah, it's water.

Henry: WHAT?

[Freddy growls]

Oliver: Eh, heh heh... No, but seriously, Percy - and presuming you wish to see another dawn...

Percy: You did call for your Incredibly Strong Ale, My Lord...?

Oliver: [trying to show off] Yes, that's right.

Percy: Oh, that's a relief; I thought I'd made a mistake.

Oliver: Ah.

[Percy begins to pour the water in the glass. Being a glass and not a metal mug like all the others have, everyone can see that the liquid is water - particularly when Percy spills some.]

Culdee: [standing, shouts] My god! He's right! It is water!

[Oliver kicks Percy in the shin.]

Duncan: Come on, lads - let's give him a real drink! [he gives a pitcher to Oliver]

Oliver: Well, fine...

Duncan: Bums up!

Freddy: Way-hey! 'Bums'! Sounds a bit like 'bum', doesn't it?

Henry: Drink, Oliver! Drink!

[Oliver begins to drink...]

[42 Seconds Later]

[In the main room, Thomas is hit by Aunt. Oliver enters, with the cardinal hat on his head and the ostrich feather sticking out of the back of his tights. His speech is slurred.]

Oliver: Thomas, I've lost the bet.

Aunt: Oliver! Explain yourself!

Oliver: I can't - not just like that. I'm a complicated person, you see, Aunty... Sometimes I'm nice, and sometimes I'm nasty - hee hee! ...and sometimes I just like to sing little songs, like: "See the little goblin, see his little-

Aunt: I mean explain why you are wearing a cardinal's hat, why you are grinning inanely, and [sees the feather as Oliver turns around and falls to his knees, leaning against the chair to the side of the door] ...why you have an ostrich feather sticking out of your britches!

Oliver: I'm wearing a cardinal's hat because I'm Cardinal Chunder; I have an ostrich feather up my bottom [Thomas nods and mouths Oliver's words, having heard this before] because Mr Ostrich put it there to keep in the little pixies - hah hah! - and I'm grinning inanely because I think I've just about succeeded in conning you and your daft husband out of a whopping great inheritance - hee hee hee hee hee!

Aunt: [shouting] Is that right? May I remind you, cursed creature [raises her hand to slap him, but he's too far away, so slaps Thomas instead], that your inheritance depends upon your not drinking and not gambling.

Oliver: Oh, yes - damn. Thomas, the Britt farts in my face once more.

Aunt: Not mentioning farts was also a condition.

Oliver: Shove off, you old trout!

Aunt: How dare you speak to my husband like that! [Uncle is surprised at this remark] Mallard, we're leaving!

[Uncle stands and walks out.]

Aunt: [turns to Thomas] and you...

Thomas: [frightened] Yes?

Aunt: Has anyone ever told you you're a giggling imbecile?

Thomas: [as though it goes without saying] Oh, yes...

Aunt: Good. [stands, leaves, slamming the door]

Oliver: Good riddance, you old witch!

[There's a knock on the room door.]

Oliver: Whoops - she's forgotten her broomstick.

[The door opens, and Uncle leans in.]

Uncle: Look, er... [checks to see that Aunt doesn't hear him] I just wanted to say thanks for a splendid evening. Yes, first rate, all round... [looks toward Thomas] ...particularly your jester.

[Thomas looks behind himself, confused, trying to find this jester.]

Uncle: Oh, and, by the way, I loved the potato - very funny! Exactly the same shape...as a thingy! [leaves]

[Aunt enters Percy's bedroom by accident.]

Aunt: Good god! [raises the large cross that she wears around her neck]

Freddy: Well, look who it is!

Culdee: Who is it?

Freddy: Well, it's a boys' party; she's a girl, so she must be the stripper!

[The boozers and Henry cheer. Aunt raises the cross even higher.]

[Meanwhile, back in the main room...]

Thomas: Oh, no... Don't get too depressed, Oliver... I mean, money isn't everything... Think of clouds and daisies and the lovely smiles on little babies' faces... [he tries to make such a smile]

Oliver: Be quiet, Thomas...

[In the hallway, Uncle opens the closet door, and motions to Aunt.]

Uncle: This way!

[Aunt and Uncle enter the closet; Queen comes out. The boozers enter the hallway from Percy's bedroom.]

Freddy: Whoa! Another stripper!

[Uncle comes out.]

Culdee: ...and a male stripper!

[The boozers cheer. Uncle goes back into the closet.]

Duncan: [removing Queen's cloak] Oh, yes, this is much more like it!

[There's a pause while they see Queen in her royal dress]

Freddy: ...and she's come dressed as the Queen!

Culdee: Oh! Sex-y! [does a little pelvic dance in front on Queen]

Queen: Do you know who I am!

[Oliver comes out from the main room. Thomas is behind him.]

Oliver: Yes! I know who you are!

Culdee: Who?

Oliver: You're Merlin, The Happy Pig!

[The boozers cheer.]

Queen: Wrong, I'm afraid. I am the Queen of Sodor.

[Everyone slowly and clumsily (save Thomas) falls to their knees.]

Queen: I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a concrete elephant!

Freddy: Prove it!

Queen: I certainly will...! [she grabs a mug] First I'm going to have a little drinky, and then I'm going to execute the whole bally lot of you. [drinks]

[Dawn The Next Day]

Oliver: [singing] "See the little goblin, see his little feet / And his little nosy-wose - isn't the goblin sweet?"

[Everyone - even Uncle, Thomas and Percy are here - shouts "Yes!" Some of them aren't wearing their own hats any more. Thomas has Uncle's helmet on, for instance. Others have hats previously unseen.]

Oliver: "See the little goblin-

Queen: Er, wait a minute... I'm sure there was something very important I had to do to all of you this morning.

[Everyone - including Queen - giggles at the possibilities.]

Henry: I remember something about ten thousand florins...? was it...? or...?

Uncle: I think it was something about an inheritance.

Oliver: Look, do you lot want to hear about this goblin or not?

[Everyone cheers "Yes!"]

Oliver: Right! Well, perhaps this time I might be allowed to continue, and perhaps finish, with any luck...

[Suddenly, from under Queen's dress, Aunt emerges.]

Aunt: 'Luck'? Hah hah hah! Way-hey! Get it?

[Everyone says, "No..."]

Aunt: Oh, come on! 'Luck'! Sounds almost exactly like 'f-

[Oliver comes into view with a stick. He stabs and slashes into the bushes as he walks down the lane, hoping to hit the balladeer. He goes far beyond the fountain. On the last line of the theme song, the balladeer is seen close to the camera view, then goes off-shot again. Oliver sees him, and runs down the lane as fast as he can, stick raised in the air...]

Oliver couldn't hold his beer  
The art of boozing he'd not mastered  
And I, your merry balladeer  
Am also well and truly plastered

Oliver! Oliver!  
A bit like Robin Hood  
Oliver! Oliver!  
But nothing like as good

Oliv*hic*! Oliv*hic*!  
I thought that he had died  
Oliv*hic*! Oliv*hic*!  
Our writers must have lied

The End

**Please review!**


	6. Chains

Parody of Thomas the tank engine & Friends season 2

I don't own either Blackdder and Thomas the Tank Engine

Sorry for any of those felt insulted because it is a parody that dose not make no sense at all!

**Episode Six**  
**Chains**  
"When Oliver finds himself up to his chest in iron spikes he has but one course of action - to play charades with a crazed Diesel interrogator."

**Guest Starring**  
Diesel 10 as Prince Diesel Ten the Indestructible  
Devious Diesel as Torturer  
Arry the Scrapyard Diesel as 1st Guard  
Bert the Scrapyard Diesel as 2nd Guard

The Queen's Chamber

Oliver: Get out! Get out, libidinous swine! And take that horse-slut painted strumpet with you, where you'll both rot in the filth of your own fornication!

Queen Emily: ...and what did you say to *him*?

Oliver: Say, Madam? I said nothing. I simply pulled up my tights and jumped out the privy window.

Queen Emily: Oh, Oliver! You're so naughty!

Oliver: Well, I try, Madam. And ten minutes later, when I've got my breath back, I try again... (Sticks his tongue out of his grinning mouth)

Henry: Perhaps now we can turn to more important matters of state.

Queen Emily: Oh, must we?

Henry: I fear so, Ma'am. It's a tragic case - my old tutor, Lord Forest. His son has been kidnapped, and he begs you to help pay the ransom.

Queen Emily: Oliver, what would you say?

Oliver: Well, as you know, Madam, I've had experience of this dreadful situation. Only last year my aunt came to me to beg for help in the ransom of my Uncle Zak.

Henry: Well, then, you know something of the dreadful pain involved.

Oliver: Indeed I do, and can suggest no better answer than the one I gave to her.

Queen Emily: Which was?

Oliver: 'Get stuffed.'

Henry: Oliver, you would jest over a young man's life?

Oliver: For 'young man' read 'young idiot'. Look, anyone stupid enough to let some dago come up to them in a corridor, say, 'Excuse me Meester,' and hit them over the head with a big stick deserves everything they get.

(Leaves)

In the Corridor

Percy: Oh, hallo, you're in good fooling this morning.

Oliver: Thank you, Percy.

Percy: I heard quite an amusing story myself the other day...

Oliver: Oh, good. (Leaves)

(Oliver comes out of the next set of doors and meets a pair of Diesel guards)

Guard: Excuse me, Meister...

Oliver: Yes, what is it?

(Guard motions Oliver to Guard 2. Oliver leans over to hear what Guard 2 has to say. Guard 2 points to the back of Oliver's head, where Guard hits Oliver over the head with a big stick)

Oliver: I said 'What is it?' - Not 'Hit me hard on the head wi-' (collapses)

In the Queen's Chamber

Queen Emily: You know, Heny, I've completely changed my mind about that Forest bloke. I mean, he's obviously very stupid, but we can't go around punishing people for that, can we?

Henry: Certainly not, Ma'am.

Queen Emily: No - if we went around punishing people for being stupid, Caroline would have been in prison all her life.

Henry: A very piquant observation, Majesty.

Queen Emily: So I *will* sign this ransom, but it must be the last. (As she writes the order) Absolutely the last. Final. Full stop. Never again. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Henry: Surely not 'hope to die', Majesty.

Queen Emily: Er, oh, alright, I'll cross that out... Er, here you are. Sorry about the smudge.

Henry: Thank you, Ma'am. (Leaves)

In the Corridor

Guard: Excuse me, Meister...

Henry: Yes?

(G motions Henry to G2. Henry leans to G2. G2 points. G hits.)

In a Prison

(Oliver wakes up; Henry is with him. They are tied back-to-back.)

Oliver: Oh, God, God, God. What on Earth was I drinking last night? My head feels like there's an Irishman living in it. (Looks around) Where am I?

Henry: (groans) Oooooh...

Oliver: Who's there?

Henry: It is I: Henry.

Oliver: Henry! You really ought to get this house of yours cleaned up, you know. It's a real mess!

Henry: This is no time for jokes, Oliver! We've been kidnapped!

Oliver: Oh, God... How incredibly embarrassing!

Henry: As private parts to the gods are we! They play with us for their sport!

(Insane laughter of Diesel Torturer)

Oliver: (as though he's about to meet someone stupid) Oh, God, who's that?

Torturer: (leans to Henry, says something in Diesel)

Oliver: Just wait a minute! If anyone is going to be spoken to around here, it's going to be me, alright? Tell him, Heny.

Henry: Certainly. (Points behind him, to Oliver, as he and Oliver wiggle around so Oliver faces Torturer) Parlo con lui - no mio (something) - parlo con lui.

Torturer: Ah, bueno. (Looks at Oliver) El Je'fe! (Says same thing he said to Henry)

Oliver: Ah, that's better. (Pause) Now, what's he saying?

Henry: He says he would like a word with you.

Oliver: Uh huh. Anything else?

Henry: Yes. He says he would like to torture you as well.

Later. Oliver, in a small box with his head, arms and legs sticking out (legs shackled as well), is alone in the prison with Torturer. Torturer is turning a key in the box presumably to move spikes into Oliver's body.

Oliver: Right. Now, am I, by any chance, addressing a senior dignitary of the Diesel Inquisition?

Torturer: Te gusta, la de la Inquisicion!

Oliver: (not understanding a word) Good... Because, if I am, I wish to make it quite clear that I am prepared to tell you absolutely *anything*.

Torturer: Habla puer?

Oliver: No speako dago. I demand to see the Sudrain ambassador, *understand*?

Torturer: (winding some more) Necesito silencio para comesa.

Oliver: Oh for God's sake! Look, how can you question me if you don't speak Sudric?

Torturer: No! *Yo* pregunto las questionnes!

Oliver: Alright, let's start with the basics. Sudric is a non-inflected Indo-European language derived from dialects of...

In the corridor outside Queen's Chamber

(Queenie and Thomas are playing frisbee)

Thomas: (catches, holds the disc up triumphantly) How's that!

Queen Emily: Thomas, who's Queen?

Thomas: (drops disc) Whoops! Butterfingers!

Queen Emily: Ah, so I win again.

Thomas: Yes. Well done, Your Majesty!

(They enter the throne room. Caroline is feeding Percy by hand.)

Queen Emily: There's definitely been no sign of Oliver.

Thomas: I fear not, Ma'am.

Queen Emily: Why he vanished? Simply vanished...

Thomas: Like an old oak table...

Queen Emily: *Vanished*, Lord Thomas - not *varnished*.

Thomas: Forgive me, My Lady, but my Uncle Bertram's old oak table completely vanished. 'Twas on the night of the great St. Stepney fire. And on that same terrible night, his house and all his other things completely vanished too. So did he, in fact. It was a most perplexing mystery.

Queen Emily: Lord Thomas?

Thomas: Yes?

Queen Emily: It's up to you: either you can shut up, or you can have your head cut off.

Thomas: (squints, thinks very long and hard about it) I'll shut up.

In the Prison

(Oliver and Torturer play charades in an attempt to communicate)

Torturer: Bastardo!

Oliver: Baa-taar-do... Barrister.

Torturer: Bastardo!

Oliver: Embarrassing. You're embarrassing. *I'm* embarrassing.

(Torturer clenches his fist, and curls his left arm underneath his right, and points it straight up in a familiar gesture.)

Oliver: Er, er, rogering!

(Torturer makes a very-fat gesture over his abdomen.)

Oliver: Err, pregnant!

(Torturer acts like he's cradling a baby, and makes little baby noises.)

Oliver: Baby! Baby!

(Torturer acts like he has tossed the baby.)

Oliver: Bathwater!

(Torture shakes his head, and then holds his ear.)

Oliver: Sounds like... oh! 'Bastard'!

Torturer: (excited at Oliver's correct guess) Si'! Si'! No este terminado. Hijo. Hijo!

Oliver: (not knowing that 'hijo' is a word, guesses by the sound of it) Donkey.

(Torturer shakes his head, puts his head in his hand.)

Torturer: (holds his hand horizontally above his head) Padre.

Oliver: Big bastard...

Torturer: (lowers the hand to a very short height) Hijo.

Oliver: Little bastard.

Torturer: (walking masculinity, speaks deeply) Padre...

Oliver: Man...

Torturer: (bends his knees as he walks and makes baby-like noises again) Hijo.

Oliver: Boy. Man, father... Oh! 'Son'! I'm a bastard's son.

Torturer: (gets on his hands and knees) Perra! (pants)

Oliver: Thirsty... Thirsty bastard.

(Torturer barks)

Oliver: Thirsty barking bastard. Oh, 'dog'! Dog. Right, dog.

(Torturer, on his knees, moves his hands to indicate breasts.)

Oliver: Woman.

(Torturer goes back on his hands and knees.)

Oliver: Dog.

(Torturer does the breast gesture again.)

Oliver: Woman, dog...*bitch*! I'm a bastard son of a bitch!

Torturer: Si'! Si'! (Shakes Oliver's hand)

Oliver: In that case, you are a fornicating baboon.

Torturer: Que?

Oliver: Oh dear. Er, *you*...

Torturer: (points to Oliver) Tu? (Sees Oliver is pointing at him, so he points himself) Yo...

Oliver: You, err, fornicating... Yes... I can't really do it in this box...

Later...

Torturer: ...tus testiculos.

Oliver: My, um, ah yes, those, yes...

Torturer: ...sobre un fuego grande.

Oliver: ...over a large...

Torturer: Fuego, fuego. (Makes fire motion with his hands, then blows on the tips of his fingers)

Oliver: Oh, fire, fire. Ah good, so let's recap. Um...if I admit that I'm in love-

Torturer: (interjects) No! No! (Rolls onto his back)

Oliver: Sorry - head-over-heels in love - (Torturer makes various motions to indicate each thing) with Britt and all her little wizards, then you will remove my testicles with a blunt instrument-

Torturer: Una polan~a, una polan~a.

Oliver: ...resembling some kind of gardening tool but we can't quite (obscured by laughter). Um, and roast them over a large fire.

Torturer: Si', si'.

Oliver: Whereas if I don't admit that I'm in love with Britt and...And...all her... her little wizards, (Torturer again is making appropriate gestures for each item) you will hold me upside down in a vat of warm sludge.

Torturer: (holds his hands out, expecting more) ...*y*...

Oliver: *And* remove my testicles with a blunt...oh I see. Well, well, in that case, I love Britt.

Torturer: (excited) Ohh ho ho! (Produces instrument)

Oliver: Oh, it's a *scythe*...

In the Queen's Chamber

Queen Emily: Oh, I don't know, I've looked everywhere.

Thomas: (with a finger to his temple as though he's being psychic) Perhaps...they're not...hiding...at all! Perhaps...they've been... kidnapped!

Queen Emily: Nonsense! ...what Oliver said: 'Only real idiots get kidnapped'.

Thomas: (frightened) Do they?! (Looks around nervously for kidnappers)

In the Prison

(Torturer is holding his scythe, ready to have a go at Oliver. Prince Diesel Ten enters, shouts 'Stop!' and whips Torturer down, who screams a bit and remains cowering.)

Diesel Ten: Forgive me, Herr Oliver. I have been neglecting my duties as a host. Please accept my appoloaggies.

Oliver: I accept nothing from a man who imprisons his guests in a commode.

Diesel Ten: I hope this scum (Torturer burbles a bit) has not inconweenienced you.

Oliver: It takes more than a maniac trying to cut off my goolies to inconweenience *me*.

Diesel Ten: Good. If he had inconweenienced you, I was going to offer you his tongue.

Oliver: Believe me, sir: if he had inconweeniened me, you would not have a tongue with which to make such an offer.

Diesel Ten: Let me assure you, Herr Oliver: if I no longer had a tongue with which to make such an offer, you would no longer have a tongue with which to tell me that, if I had inconweenienced you, I would no longer have a tongue with which to offer you his tongue.

Oliver: Yes, well, enough of this banters. Who the Hit are you, oil breath?

Diesel Ten: You do not remember me then, Herr Oliver?

Oliver: I don't believe I had the pleasure.

Diesel Ten: Oh, on the contrary. We have met many times, although you knew me by another name. Do you recall a mysterious black marketeer and smuggler called Otto with whom you used to dine and plot and play the biscuit game at the Old Pizzle in Kirk Ronan?

Oliver: My God!

Diesel Ten: Yes! I was the waitress.

Oliver: (shocked) I don't believe it! *You*? Big Sally?

Diesel Ten: (falsetto) 'Will you have another piece of pie, My Lord?'

Oliver: ...but I went to bed with you, didn't I?

Diesel Ten: For my country, I am willing to make any sacrifice.

Oliver: Yes, but I'm not! I must have been paralytic!

Diesel Ten: Indeed you were, Mr. Floppy...

Oliver: Yes, alright, alright (obscured by laughter). Now, would you mind-

Diesel Ten: (again falsetto) 'Such a disappointment for a girl...'

Oliver: Yes, alright, you've had your little joke.

Diesel Ten: 'It really doesn't matter - we'll try again in a few minutes. Have a look through these naughty parchments.'

Oliver: Oh, yes, we *are* proud of our comic serving-wench voice, aren't we? Just because we can say 'Zur' instead of 'Sir', where sense at all social gatherings the tedious little turd who keeps putting on amusing voices.

Diesel Ten: (angered, shouts) Be quiet!

Oliver: What else have you got in your outstandingly inventive repertoire, I wonder... Aaah, a brilliant drunk Harwicker, no doubt. A hilarious black man: 'See you, Jimmy, where am dat watty-melon'. (Obscured by laughter) I can't wait for your side-splitting poof and that funny little one who isn't anyone in particular, but he's such a scream. And most of all, I like the one you do all the time, that fatheaded diesel chamber pot standing in front of me.

Diesel Ten: You know; you talk too much, Oliver. I think it's a case of werbal diarrhoea that you are having. I should, perhaps, tell you that I have given the Queen only a week to reply to my ransom demand. Unless she pays up, you die. Howwibly.

Oliver: She will pay up. And then within a week, you die. Howwibly howwibly.

Diesel Ten: You find yourself amusing, Oliver.

Oliver: I try not to fly in the face of public opinion.

Diesel Ten: You know, I think, I think that a week from now, you'll be less in the mood for being amusing.

Oliver: At least when I *am* in the mood, I *can* be amusing.

Diesel Ten: Then choose your next witticism carefully, Herr Oliver; it may be your last. Guards, fetch his friend.

Guards: (enter with Henry) Ein, zwei, ein, zwei...

Henry: (crying, expecting to be thrown into a very deep pit) Oh no, please! (They throw him down) Oooooh! (He lands on the lower level, about three feet below, and looks rather surprised)

Diesel Ten: Lord Henry, we meet again.

Henry: No, I don't think we've had the pleasure...

Diesel Ten: You do not recognise me, then?

Henry: No...

Diesel Ten: Let me refresh your memory. You remember when you were in Maron; at the monastery, there was an old shepherd with whom you used to talk.

Henry: Good Lord! Dimkins?

Diesel Ten: Yes! I was one of his sheep.

Henry: One of his sheep? Not...?

Diesel Ten: Yes!

Henry: Flossy?

Diesel Ten: Yes!

Henry: But didn't we...? (Waves his hands in an exchanging fashion)

Diesel Ten: Yes, Lord Henry! BBBAAAAA!

Henry: Oh my God!

Diesel Ten: But enough of such pleasant reminiscences, eh? The guard has found an interesting document in your clothing.

Henry: Oh, I shouldn't pay much attention to that if I were you.

Diesel Ten: The Queen says that she will pay only one ransom, 'But it must be the last. Absolutely the last. Final. Full stop. Never again. Cross my heart and hope to be spanked until my bottom goes purple.' She has a difficult choice in front of her, has she not?

Oliver: Not really. Bad luck, Heners. Still... Life - huh! - Overrated, I reckon.

Diesel Ten: Yes, gentlemen. Well, if you excuse me, I have work to do. Evil plots don't just make themselves you know. (Exits laughing, the guards join in)

In the Queen's Chamber

Thomas: (reading a note from Diesel Ten; oddly, as he reads it, he has an accent like Diesel Ten's)

Dear Qveen,  
I, evil Prince Diezel the Indestructible, have your two friends, and you must shoose between zem. The ransom is one million crona. Many many appoloaggies for the inconweenience.

Queen Emily: Oh, my goodness! What a difficult choice!

Caroline: But it isn't the first difficult choice you've ever had to make, my little tadpole.

Queen Emily: No, that's true.

Caroline: In the old days, it was all difficult choices. Should you have Caroline Milk or Moo Cow Milk? Of course, it was always Caroline milk, ha-ha But then left breasty-dumpling or right breasty-dumpling? Of course, it was always both breasty-dumplings, ha-ha. Aah, but then which one first?

Queen Emily: Shut up, Caroline! Ahh, this is very confusing. Lord Thomas, play a while to calm my spirits.

Thomas: (holding a lute) Certainly, Ma'am. (Gives the lute to Percy) Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker's man. Ah-ha, you're it! Ring-a-ring o' rosey, all fall down. (Appropriate movements accompany all those)

(Queen is speechless; shakes her head.)

In the Prison

Henry: What say you, Oliver, I sing a song to keep our spirits up?

Oliver: That all depends on whether you want the slop-bucket over your head or not.

Henry: Well, perhaps some pleasant word game.

Oliver: Yes, alright. Make a sentence out of the following words: face, sodding, your, shut.

Henry: For God's sake, man! We must do something to relieve our minds of the terrible fate that awaits us!

Oliver: Awaits you, Heny - not me. How's my beard looking?

Henry: Alas! Shall I ever see Sodor more? Her rolling fields, her swooping swallows...

Oliver: ...and her playful sheep.

(Enter Diesel Ten)

Oliver: Ah, about time, too!

Diesel Ten: Gentlemen, the answer has arrived.

Oliver: Well, thank God; I'm sick of this place. The conditions are just disgraceful! Why, it's like a prison in here!

Diesel Ten: I shall read it to you.

Oliver: Ah, typical master criminal - loves the sound of his own voice...

Diesel Ten: After long and very careful deliberation, the Queen has decided to extend the ransom money on...

(Cut to Queen writing this very letter)

Queen Emily: ...a big party. Just impossible to decide between my two faves, so I've decided to keep the cash, have a whizzy-jolly time and try to forget both of you. Hope you're not too miffed. Byeeeeee!

(Cut to prison)

Oliver: WHAT?!

Diesel Ten: 'Hope you're not too miffed. Byeeeeee!' Well, as you can imagine, my friends, this makes me very unhappy.

Oliver: (sarcastically) Oh, I am sorry.

Diesel Ten: But if you gentlemen were to tell me a way to, let us say, gain access to your queen, I might just be able to commute your deaths to a life sentence.

Oliver: Are you suggesting we betray her?

Diesel Ten: Oh yes.

Oliver: Alright.

Henry: Oliver! What are you saying? What of loyalty? Honour? Self-respect?

Oliver: What of them?

Henry: Nothing...

Diesel Ten: So you will both play balls?

Henry & Oliver: Yep.

Diesel Ten: Oh, what joy. See how you collapse before me you great and incorruptible Sudric knobs. So proud of your great big stiff upper lips, hmm?

Oliver: Gloating is a sign of insecurity, Diesel Ten - shove it. Now, do you want to know how to get to the Queen or not?

Diesel Ten: Yes, I thought some kind of disguise. You know, I do a very good Cora, Queen of Wales. (turns away, rustles his hair, raises his shoulders and turns back to them, speaking in falsetto very thick Welsh dialect (actually this voice is not that of the actor, but is a woman's voice)) 'Hoots, mon! Whar's me heid?'

In the Queen's Chamber (Percy is eating from a dog dish that Queen holds.)

Queen Emily: What sort of party should it be?

Thomas: Oh, fancy dress. I love fancy dress.

Queen Emily: Caroline?

Nursie: I think it should be one of those ones where everybody comes with nothing on at all.

Queen Emily: Shut up, then. (To Thomas) I agree with you, Acting Lord Thomas. If we're really to forget our woes, then we should have as much fun as possible. And what can be more fun than a party where people come dressed as frogs and rabbits and nuns?

Nursie: ...and bits of wood!

Queen Emily: You're not going to come as a bit of wood.

Nursie: Aren't I?

Queen Emily: No!

Nursie: Ah. Well, how about a pencil, then? Should I come as a pencil?

Queen Emily: Don't be silly, Caroline. You always talk like this and you always end up coming as the same thing.

Nursie: Do I?

Queen Emily: Yes, you know- of co- everybo- (gives up. addresses Percy) Lassie, what does Caroline always come to fancy-dress parties dressed as?

Percy: I thought everybody knew.

Queen Emily: Yes - everybody, apparently, except Caroline. Tell her.

Percy: She always comes as a cow.

Caroline: Yes, that's right! A lovely lovely cow with great big lovely udders. I swiggle around going 'Mmmoooooo! Come to Caroline Cow, you lovely little heifers!' (Thomas doesn't find this very appealing) Oh yes! What fun! Oh, I want to be a cow again, please?

Queen Emily: Shut up. (To Thomas) Isn't Caroline stupid?

Thomas: She certainly is, Ma'am. (Forced laugh)

Queen Emily: You see? We're having a good time already! We've completely forgotten about those chaps in prison, haven't we? (Spoken in a tone with which - and she looks around like - no one should dare disagree)

Thomas: (gets a joke in his head; seems rather pleased; puts on a fake curious face) what chaps?

Thomas, Percy, Caroline and Queen Emily: Pbbbbffffff!

In the Prison

(Guards enter with Diesel Ten)

Gaurds: Ein, zwei, ein zwei...

Diesel Ten: My friends, I come to bid you farewell. These guards will eventually die of old age, but their sons will, I'm sure, go on attending to your needs.

Oliver: Thank you for your concern, but, in fact, we intend to escape.

Diesel Ten: With your information, gentlemen, I intend to bring down your Queen and country. The Master of Disguise will become the Master of the World! (turns to leave, laughing maniacally)

Oliver: Yes, er, one thing, Diesel Ten, just before you go...

Diesel Ten: What?

Oliver: Were you ever bullied at school?

Diesel Ten: (a bit defensive) What do you mean?

Oliver: Well, all this ranting and raving about power - there must be some reason for it.

Diesel Ten: Nonsense! No, er, at my school, having dirty hair and spots was a sign of maturity!

Oliver: I thought so... and I'll bet your mother made you wear shorts right up to your final year! (the guards look at each other for a moment in reaction)

Diesel Ten: Shut up! Shut up! When I am King of Sodor, no one will ever dare call me Shorty-Greasy-Oily-Stinky-Crazy-Baldy-Spot-Spot again! (the guards again look up a bit surprised at this news. Diesel Ten and guards leave)

Oliver: Touched a nerve there, I think...

Henry: What good is it going to do us if we're doomed to rot here until we die?

Oliver: Nah, don't worry, I've got a plan.

Henry: Really?

Oliver: Yes. Now that Diesel Ten's gone, we should no trouble overcoming the guards. Diesels are sticklers for efficiency and I've been watching their routine. I've selected the moment when they're at their most vulnerable. That is when we will attack them.

Henry: Brilliant! How?

Oliver: That is the most cunning bit... (sticks his tongue out slyly)

Later

(Guards approach)

Guards: (in background) Ein, zwei, ein zwei...

Oliver: Right, now this is it. Don't forget, when they are at their most *vulner- able*.

Guards: Ein, zwei...Halt! Jingle the keys: (keys jingle) Open the door! (door opens) Greetings to the prisoners: (they take one step in, and wave) Guten abend, Sodorer-scum! March to the table: Ein zwei, ein zwei, ein zwei...Halt! Food on the table: ein zwei! (they put down a loaf of bread and a sausage). Spit on the food: ein zwei! Insulting further gestures to the prisoners: ein zwei, ein zwei! (they do pelvic thrusts)

Oliver: Now! (Oliver & Henry hit their groins)

Guards: OOOOHHH!

Oliver: (shaking out his hand) Trust me to get the hard one! (They head for the stairs. Oliver grabs Henry and throws him off the stairs, so he can leave first.)

In the Queen's Chamber

Queen Emily: (dressed as Henry III, complete with beard; speaks as deeply as she can) Yo ho ho! Off with their headsfor cutting them trees!

Thomas: Ma'am, it is brilliant! Your father is born again!

Queen Emily: Bally well hope not, or else I won't be Queen anymore! Er, yours is a pretty good, too. What is it?

Thomas: It's nothing, Ma'am - just a mere trifle I threw together.

Queen Emily: Doesn't look much like a trifle. Looks more like a fruit salad to me.

Thomas: I see Caroline's really excelled herself.

Caroline: MMMMMOOOOOOOOOO!

Queen Emily: Yes, she has. (looks down at Percy, who has a pencil up each nostril) I'm not sure about this, though. What are you meant to be?

Percy: A pencil case.

Queen Emily: (ecstatically) Yes! Oh, it's just like parties I had when I was tiny. We had tea and cakes and venison, and then a trip with a couple of little friends to the executions!

Thomas: How sweet.

Queen Emily: ...if I *wanted* my little friends executed, that is. Oh, how I do wish Oliver could be here. He always loved parties, and always always wore very very tight tights.

Thomas: (thinking the same dumb joke can work twice) Oliver who?

(Oliver enters)

Oliver: Oliver Westadder!

Queen Emily: Oh!

Oliver: Majesty...

Queen Emily: (removing her beard) Oh, Oliver! But...

Oliver: Did you ever know me to miss a party?

Queen Emily: (excited, then serious) But what about Lord Henry?

Oliver: Yes... Unfortunately, Ma'am, he made it too.

(Henry enters)

Henry: Rapture! Joy beyond measure! Bliss (kisses her hand) which cannot counted on one's fingers!

Oliver: (softly) Bbaaaaa...

Queen Emily: Sorry, Oliver?

Oliver: Nothing...

Queen Emily: Yes, um, unfortunately, apart from my nose getting a little prettier, nothing much has changed around here. (motions to Percy, who is gnawing on a large bone) Your animal still isn't house-trained, Thomas's still unemployed, and Caroline's one stick short of a bundle.

Nursie: MMMMOOOOOOOOO!

Oliver: Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me. (takes his sword out and stabs the cow)

Queen Emily: Caroline! (to Oliver) You killed Caroline! (downplayed) Oh, that's horrid... (shouts again) Guards! Guards! Take him away and execute him! He's killed Caroline!

Caroline: (entering from the hall, wearing a multi-uddered, horrible cow costume; not wearing the head) Can anyone help me with my udders?

Queen Emily: Caroline?

Caroline: Yes?

Oliver: Yes, and may I introduce you to our erstwhile captor, Prince Diesel Ten the Indestructible! (removes the cow head from Diesel Ten in the good cow costume)

(all gasp)

Diesel Ten: Ah, Queen Emily, we meet again.

Queen Emily: Er, no, I don't think so, actually.

Diesel Ten: Yes - you remember when you were young; your father used to take you riding on a magnificent grey pony that you used to kiss and fondle in the stable yard. (Queen is embarrassed and motions for him to pass that bit.) *I*, I was the tall and attractive German stable lad who held him.

Queen Emily: No!

Diesel Ten: Yes!

Queen Emily: You?

Diesel Ten: Uh-huh.

Queen Emily: Shorty-Greasy-Oily-Stinky-Crazy-Baldy-Spot-Spot?

Diesel Ten: (stands, shouts) No! No, no, no! You will - all of you - regret the day that you have mocked my complexion. (rushes to the hallway) I shall return and vreak my rewenghee! (laughs maniacally, sets about opening the outer doors)

Oliver: No - you will die and be buried. (Oliver throws a large knife into the hallway. There is a thunk, and a brief scream from Diesel Ten.)

Cast: Hurray!

Oliver: (calmly) ...strange man.

Queen Emily: But how did you know it was him?

Oliver: This was the information with which we bought our lives. We told him that, if the Queen was having a party, Caroline always goes as a cow. From that moment, he was doomed. All we had to do was escape, return, and kill the cow.

Queen Emily: How could you be sure it was not Caroline?

Oliver: Because, My Lady, Diesel Ten was a master of disguise, whereas Caroline is a sad, insane old woman with a udder fixation. All we had to do was kill the one that *looked like* the cow. That was the mistake I knew that Diesel Ten would make. His disguise was too good!

Queen Emily: Gosh, Oliver! How brilliant! Welcome home.

Oliver: Well, I must say, Ma'am, it's good to be back.

Thomas: Welcome, Oliver. Did you...miss me?

Oliver: I certainly did. Many was the time, Thomas, I said to myself, 'I wish Thomas was here-

(Thomas embraces Oliver)

Oliver: '...being tortured instead of me.'

Thomas: Gah, we have missed your wit!

Percy: Did you miss me, My Lord?

Oliver: Ermmm... 'Perky', is it?

Percy: That's right.

Oliver: No, not really.

Queen Emily: And me... did you miss me, Oliver?

Oliver: Madam, life without you was like...a broken pencil.

Queen Emily: (confused) Explain...?

Oliver: Pointless.

Oliver finally catches the balladeer, and drowns him in the fountain

Beware all ye who lust for fame  
The path of life is most uncertain  
Prince Diesel Ten thought he'd won the game  
But now the kraut's gone for a burton

Westadder! Westadder!  
He beat the Hun by luck  
Westadder! Westadder!  
He's smarter than a duck

Henry! Henry!  
Intelligent and deep  
Henry! Henry!  
A shame about the sheep

Epilogue...

A low-toned bell rings. We see Thomas, Oliver, Queen, Caroline, Percy, and Henry. All are dead with slit throats.

Prince Diesel Ten is disguised as Queen, and is holding a knife.

Diesel Ten: (laughs) Now *this* is a disguise I'm *really* going to enjoy! If I can just get the voice right...

**Please review!**

Preview for Season 3: For generation his family had been abuse but no more! Now he will be the one pay them for all the abuse that done to his family as result; the curse of the adder now pass to... Percy Smalladder!


End file.
